Dog Teeth
by teapup
Summary: Everyone knows of Negan's notorious barbwire-wrapped bat, Lucille, and his strange love towards her. But what no one seems to recall is how Lucille and the vicious man's attachment to her came to be. So what happens when his past is forcefully dug up and brought to the attention of everyone when the real Lucille falls upon his eyes for the first time since the outbreak? (Negan/OC)
1. Chapter 1

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 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#1~  
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 **Series:** The Walking Dead **  
Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing:** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note : **hi everyone, i hope you enjoy the first chapter to my new fanfiction. all the sudden today i got the sudden urge to write a negan fanfiction even though i have had this idea for quite some time. also i'm aware that there are a lot of fics out there like this that explain the story behind lucille. i am also aware that robert kirkman also has created an official backstory for negan and an official reasoning behind lucille. i will not be completely disregarding the canon story, though i won't be following it too closely especially because **(SPOILERS FOR "HERE'S NEGAN" COMIC)** i am not making lucille his wife whom died of cancer. i won't be informing you of the very details i will be using for they would spoil a lot of my story's plot! there is also a bit of perspective jumping and time-skipping (though it is not drastic, only near minutes if anything) just in case you're a bit confused as to what the hell's going on sometimes. so otherwise thank you all for reading this note and please enjoy reading.  
 **Please: ** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve c:

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 _"You will find what you seek."_  
 _-Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!_

* * *

It was a night like many others for Negan ever since the dead decided it would be fun to rise up and make a meal out of those still possessing a pulse. At least it was like many others where he had dominated, desecrated and destroyed the lives of a group of strangers who had something that he wanted (not like the others where he was pounding one of his wives into oblivion). Cause lord knows when someone else had something that _he_ wanted, he'd **take** it. He hadn't really grasped the whole "sharing-is-caring" concept from grade school, he never had and knew that he'd never will. Therefore he was always often too keen on snatching, stealing and demanding in order to get what he just so damn desired when he just so damn desired it.

However, tonight was a _bit_ different for him and his Saviors.

The group of people that he had lined up outside of his trailer, shaking and trembling like Chihuahuas with tears streaming down their cheeks, were in such a position for a very unique reason. Or at least a reason that he had yet to come by in his time during this new world. It was a reason that he was _quite positive_ that he would never even come across in all of his days seeing that it was often simply deemed impossible due to his group's immense power. But for the first time in a _very_ long time...he had been proven wrong.

And God knows that Negan does **not** like being proven wrong. And now was his time to show those fuckers what happened if they did such.

And so he stepped out into the dimly-lit clearing afront of his trailer, a devious smirk placed across his maw and an equally oblique shine glinting off of the blood-stained beauty that was his beloved Lucille. He stood tall and proud as always with her slung over his broad shoulder, his demeanor beholding a very sinister and intimidating gait as he made his way down the stairs and across the clearing. He could vaguely make out the figures of nearly a dozen or so terrified beings that were surrounded entirely by his mob of Saviors. It brought him great pride and joy to know that his plan was executed so expertly by his people, especially because it was being carried out against a group that was able to counter nearly everything else that he had sent their way. But seeing them in the condition that they were now, on their knees with guns to each of their heads, he was positive that this time a retaliation would be impossible.

"Pissing our pants yet?" Negan finally spoke, his trademark smirk set across his face snidely as he made his way into the light. With the new found brightness from the cars that were surrounding his newly-caught hostages, he was able to make out just how disheveled they all truly looked. They all were covered in sweat, dirt, blood and grime and they each looked equally exasperated from their trek through the woods only minutes ago. The baseball bat-behelding man felt a wave of accomplishment wash over him as he reveled in the fact that he was the one who had inevitably led them into those woods during the middle of the night. The situation as a whole was simply too pleasing for him. He couldn't believe that this group who had outdone him on numerous occasions had fallen so easily into such a simple trap. "Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close."

* * *

She ran.

She simply ran as fast as her feet could carry her, ignoring the fact that her throat was burning as if she had swallowed hot coals and her chest felt like a cinder block was atop of it. She knew that she couldn't stop now- she had to make it. She _had_ to get help for the others.

The girl was well aware that they were being played this entire day, but she was unable to turn back from the inevitable end that was taunting them the whole time. She was sure that they were all conscious of it in fact, but they all were also far too concerned with getting Maggie the medical attention that she so desperately needed. They all knew that there was no turning back from the mission that they had embarked on and until they had reached Hilltop they all refused to back down no matter what.

For Maggie, for the baby and for their future. They _had_ to continue.

But now since the rest of the group had been corralled into a corner, lined up like cattle ready to be bled, she knew that it was all resting solely on her now. _She_ had to continue- no matter how scared, exhausted or hopeless she was. She was the lucky one who had managed to scout her way around their attackers and slip away silently before they had managed to snag her as well due to her being far behind the others as a lookout. Some may say that she should have followed them and tried to assist her friends in escaping from their pursuers, but she knew that she would only meet their exact same demise. Therefore she forced herself to ignore that daunting voice in her head that claimed her as a coward- a _deserter_ \- and sped off in the opposite direction in which she was sure led back to Alexandria.

She knew how far out she was and how it could possibly take her days to return home, but she knew that somewhere there _had_ to be a vehicle or something that she could use to assist her friends in escaping. Maybe she would even miraculously cross Tara and Heath who were still out on their scavenging expedition in order to acquire much needed supplies for their people. Whatever hope she had for any of the possibilities, all she could do was cling to them mercilessly and pray that they came true.

However, she was not sure if they would even have time to do so.

Because as soon as she rounded her way around a large protruding tree is when she heard the heavy breathing and deep voices of two men behind her.

 _How had they found her?! Her escape had been nearly unnoticeable!_

Glancing over her shoulder with large, mortified eyes, she caught sight of two large dark figures only a few yards behind her. She knew that they had to be men of that strange group that her friends had been telling her about since she'd awoken in Alexandria two or so days ago. She knew very little about them besides for the fact that they were bloodthirsty, ruthless and out to hurt the group of people who she had grown to call her family after being with them for nearly a year. But that also brought her to the topic in which she barely even knew anything about what had been going on for the past month or so as a whole due to being in a coma after falling from one of the guard towers during the invasion of The Wolves. But at this very moment she couldn't care less how very little she knew the people who were holding her friends- no, her _family_ \- hostage. All she could possibly care about as of now was saving them and getting them to Hilltop.

 _They're my family_ _...I have to help them._

Sucking in a deep breath of air, she forced herself to speed up even more than she already had after catching the sight of her two pursuers. It felt physically impossible at the moment as her leg muscles screamed at her in agony and her feet just about buckled beneath her, but she ignored their cries all the more and strained her body to endure it.

Every now and then she would glance back to assess their distance from her, and the past few times she had done so she had found solace in the fact that they had not managed to get much closer than they were when she'd first diverted her attention to them. She took pleasure in knowing that she was fast enough to outrun them, thus ensuring not only her own safety but potentially her group's safety as well. However, when she glanced back for what had to of been the fourth time since the first, she felt her stomach drop.

The two dark figures were no longer behind her.

At that moment she was not entirely sure if that had meant that they had simply given up on pursuing her or if they had diverted themselves onto a different path. Either way she knew that she was not out of the woods yet. Even if they had ceased pursuing her it only meant that their attention and killing intent was now focused on her friends instead. And if they had changed routes now she had no idea where the could possibly b-

Before she could even deliberate her next thought, the air was knocked out of her lungs and she was forcefully pulled to the forest floor below.

 _God dammit!_

When she hit the ground her head slammed against the leaves and soil especially hard, causing her vision to blur painfully and her temples to throb. She could very vaguely make out the strange and echoed voices of two men as a pair of hands began to pull and press at her body as if they were a bit jolted from the force of the fall as well. She took it that he had to of been quite disoriented as well from the harshness of their spill and used this to her advantage, hoping that his friend wouldn't show up too soon and her getaway would once again be flawed.

Letting out a long, heaving breath, the girl forced her eyes to focus and attempted to get her hearing to become clear again whilst she fought to remove the flailing man from atop of her. She forced her hands to what felt like his face and blindly dug her nails ferociously into the fleshy-feeling sockets in which she assumed beheld his eyes. She heard a cringe-worthy gushing noise before she felt a thin, slick layer of skin tearing beneath her fingers and the hot metallic sting of blood rush over her hands. There was a slight pause of eerie silence as if the man couldn't believe what she had done, before a bloodcurdling caterwaul then filled her ears and she felt his grip on her loosen exponentially. Thankfully it was just enough for her to wriggle free of him and begin to make her way back onto her feet. It was beyond a relief she had to admit, though just the feeling and the sounds which she had elicited from the man due to her actions were enough to make her heart twist with a hint of regret.

She had never been all too keen on causing suffering to others still living- even if they were trying to harm her.

* * *

Negan stopped mid-eenie-meenie-minie-moe as a deep, nightmarish scream filled the dark sky. At the sound of it everyone seemed to freeze in a mixture of horror and curiosity, their heads turning in the direction in which it reverberated viciously, echoing off of the trees and the cars that littered where they stood before dying off into a pained, weak whimper.

 _These fuckers._

The large man's eyes narrowed, jaw muscles tightening with a mixture of both anger and annoyance as his grip on Lucille tightened before he opened his mouth to speak again, "You shitfucks better hope that was one of your own men out there crying like a little bitch or else the repercussions are gonna be so much fucking worse." Negan snarled, a hint of amusement lacing his voice as he saw one of his captives fearful eyes grow wider at his words. However what Negan saw on the face of the man he had damned so savagely ever since he had come across this group is what truly got the best reaction out of him.

Rick's mouth seemed to be twitching into a slight smirk, as if his face was trying to fight off his reaction to the pain-filled scream that had filled their ears only moments ago. His ice-blue eyes were twinkling- and not with tears, mind you- in a way that truly irked Negan to the vice of his very being. It took every ounce of control within him to not smash his beloved Lucille straight into the skull of the smug leader at his feet. He had ultimately decided against it, however, until they figured out whom the scream had rightfully belonged to, therefore if it was one of Rick's men he could watch that content grin turn into an expression that mirrored the rest of his group's. And _damn,_ would that be ever so satisfying!

And that exact fucking satisfaction that Negan was waiting on surfaced just as violently and suddenly as Rick's had moments ago.

Another shriek- one just a blood-freezing and heart-stopping as the first- rippled through the night sky and filled all of their ears with yet another sensation. This one, however, was quite a bit different.

It was far more high-pitched than the other had been, leading Negan to believe that it belonged to a female rather than a male- unless its owner was some prepubescent fuck that somehow managed to stay alive this long, though he highly doubted it. But what was even more distinct about the second caterwaul that interrupted his game of executioner- and _oh_ , so much more pleasing to the eyes- was the chillingly haunted emotion that had dominated Rick's once-smirked maw.

 _Oh yeah, now_ _ **that's**_ _what I like to fucking see!_

Strutting so that he was barely and arms-length now from the trembling, blood-covered man who had retaliated against for him so long, Negan let out a lengthy, content sigh before simply grinning down at the once-great leader. "What's the fucking matter, Rick?" Negan cooed, directing Lucille under the stone-faced man's chin so that he could force him to look up into his eyes. "You don't like the sound of girls screaming just as much as I do? I mean, hell, I prefer them to be underneath me while they are, but this'll have to do for now."

* * *

It hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever physically felt. And as soon as she had felt it, the burning, searing pain that wracked her entire body as if it set her veins aflame, she couldn't help but to let out a scream so harsh that it nearly burned her throat. It was as if someone had reached into her leg and set a bonfire upon her left hamstring and consistently threw lighter fluid into it until it was utterly and completely untamable. It was absolute _hell._

She fell to the ground, her hands clutching at the knife handle her thigh desperately as she crumpled into the dirt and leaves with a pained expression across her face. Her teeth were biting into her lower lip hard enough to draw an immense amount of blood in which had started to dribble down her chin, leaving behind a thin crimson line upon her pale skin. Her body was instinctively curling into a ball as if to shield her from any other types of harm that were going to come her way and she felt tears beginning to sting the back of her eyes.

 _I've failed them. How could I let this happen? How could I do this to them?_

"Fucking bitch!" The man who had stabbed her- also the man whom she had gauged the eyes of- cursed angrily, falling back into his position on the ground as the sound of distant footsteps neared. Fearfully, the girl knew that it was her second pursuer coming to reap what she had sewn.

"Fuck, Wade!" The second man choked and she heard him fall to his knees beside his partner that was writhing on the ground in absolute agony. She surmised that his eyes must've fallen across his friend's own and seen what she had done and knew that he was going to be even more pissed than before.

The girl peered up from her pained fetal position in time to see the unharmed man, a scrawny guy with stringy shoulder-length blonde hair and a matching mustache and beard, leave his counterpart's side and start at her with a fury blazing in his pale eyes. She could see that he had no weapon in his hands at the moment, so her fear of having yet another blade shoved into her adjacent thigh was fading, however the malicious glint in his gaze was enough to rebirth her fright almost immediately.

She tried to scramble away from him as he closed in on her, though her leg- which was now bleeding profusely- was having none of it. As soon as she tried to shift her body so that she could make an attempt to crawl or stand, it inaudibly shrieked in just as much agony as her own victim- apparently Wade- had only seconds ago when her nails met his corneas. So as the overwhelming ache took control of her body, regrettably forcing her back to the ground, she could only watch in horror as this thin man grew closer and closer to her before he finally stood precisely in front of her and glared down into her wide eyes.

"Negan will make you pay for that." Was all he muttered before reaching down, yanking her up by the shirt and raising his fist with a vicious expression shadowing his features.

However, the split second before his knuckles met her face and knocked her unconscious is the very second that she felt every ounce of blood in her entire body freeze.

 _Negan…?!_

And then it all went black.

* * *

Negan grinned as his eyes danced over his and Lucille's immaculate handiwork, a demonic gleam in his eyes as he heard the grief-filled sobs of those whom he had corralled into his little trap earlier. He had promised them a punishment for all that they had done in retaliation to each of his attempts in avenging his own men and that is exactly what he fucking gave them. It caused him an immense amount of pride that he was capable of such actions and power as he had just demonstrated before them- especially since he had not taken only one, but _two_ , of Rick's people after the dirty redneck lashed out and decided he'd like to give Negan a taste of his right fist. And no, no, no! That shit was not gonna fly! Like he had told them and had told anyone else who had ever crossed him: he was a man of his word and he **never** went back on his word. So, of course, even though he had already fulfilled his duty by bashing in the guy he liked to call "Red"'s head, he took one- maybe two, or three, or eight- swings at the Asian kid who had caused the first disruption earlier that night just to show them that he meant business. And, damn, had it felt good- practically _orgasmic_ \- to show Rick and his peers that he was not an all bark and no bite kind of guy.

Finally taking in enough of the unrecognizable and bloody mess- art, however, in his opinion- Negan turned away from the sight and began to pace back to the middle of the clearing so that he could get a good look at all of the disheveled faces before him. As he found the perfect spot so that he could make out whom each sob belonged to, he let out a very loud, long and satisfied sigh just so these shits knew that he had thoroughly enjoyed beating the living hell out of _both_ of their comrades. 'Cause he sure as hell wasn't one to discriminate! He enjoyed making a statement by beating the hell out of any race, he wasn't really a picky guy.

Negan then raised an amused brow and glanced to Rick and was nearly sent into a giggling fit at the look on the man's face. It felt like Christmas fucking morning and he had just opened the biggest gift under the tree when he saw not only the tears mingled with his very own friend's blood dripping down his cheeks, but the absolute look of defeat twinkling in his blue eyes as he stared to the ground in a state of what he assumed to be catatonic shock. It was too good to be true! Santa _is_ real!

"What?" The leather-donned man piped up, his devilish smirk playing upon his lips as he swung Lucille freely about. "Was the joke that bad?"

Negan watched as more sobs continued to wrack throughout the broken group, shaking each of their bodies violently until they became too tired, weak or defeated to continue with anything other than faint whimpers and sniffles. It took a decent amount of time and deafening silence- minus the faint chirping of crickets and birds that began to become all the more audible as the sun slowly inched its way up the sky- before he decided that it was probably time to continue on with his demonstrations. After all, the show must going fucking on.

However, as Negan stepped forward to resume his psychological torture on those who had wronged him, he was interrupted by a sudden, _"Holy shit!"_ from one of his own men.

Usually he would not tolerate any sort of outburst or disruption from anyone- especially one of his own followers- as he had showcased earlier after the guy who looked like he had just stepped off the "Deliverance" set took a swing at him. But as he saw his vast amounts of men and women turn in the direction of what the voice was so shocked about, he felt himself not so keen on punishing them for such a commotion due to the sight before his very eyes.

Two of his lieutenants, Dwight and Wade, were making their way through the crowd looking just as disheveled as the group lined up before him. Wade's eyes were bloodshot and he had numerous lines of crimson streaming down his face as he leaned heavily on the scrawnier man. But it was what was in Dwight's arms that had seared Negan straight to the core. He was even sure that he heard a heart-wrenching cry from the very son of Rick himself at the sight of it, but Negan couldn't care less at the moment. Any other time he would have punished the kid for such insubordination but as of now all he wanted to do was _know_ it was who his heart hoped it would be.

As the two bedraggled men found themselves growing closer and closer Negan felt his heart speed up with every step they took. There was someone- a girl- clutched close to Dwight's boney frame and with every step she was closer to his presence he was able to make out a feature that caused his blood to grow a degree colder with each one he recalled.

 _The long, pale blonde curls._

 **97.6 degrees.**

 _Tiny, petite frame._

 **96.6 degrees.**

 _Soft baby-face with skin whiter than snow._

 **95.6.**

 _Heavily-lidded, huge chocolate brown eyes with_ _dense_ _dark lashes._

 **94.6.**

 _Those plump, pouty pale rose-colored lips that he would kill to kiss._

 **93.6.  
**  
 _Those beautifully thick, furrowed eyebrows that would melt his cold heart with slightest raise._

 **92.6. _  
_**  
 _That minuscule star-shaped mole just below her left collarbone._

 **91.6.**

"Lucy?" He choked.

 **90.6.**

 _It was her._

 **89.6.**

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 _.  
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	2. Chapter 2

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 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#2~**

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 **Series:** The Walking Dead **  
Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing:** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note : **hi all, i'm so happy that was able to get out another update so fast. i left it at bit of a cliffhanger so i didn't want to leave the few of you following this story on edge (if you even were) for too long :). i also just have a lot of ideas for this story that i am very eager to get out all at once haha. hope you enjoy, please leave a review to let me know what you think c:and thank you so much for the follows and favorites! they mean a lot to me to know that you all are awaiting my updates ^^  
 **Please: ** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve c:  
 **IMPORTANT NOTICE:** There will time-skipping in this period (i.e. flashbacks of Negan and the OC) and there will be many throughout this story in order to explain their backstory. There is always a time period label whenever time periods are switching or are taking place at any time that is not the present in the story (Negan being reunited with Lucille). Enjoy!  
 **SLIGHT(?) LEMON NOTICE:** There is kind of(?) a smut in this chapter. It isn't really important to the story line and isn't very graphic either, though I figured I would warn you all beforehand anyways :)

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 _"Our world was finally reunited."_  
 _-Forgive Durden, The End and The Beginning_

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 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak.**

"Ah, fuckity, fucking, _fuuuck_." Negan moaned, his fists clenching the sheets on each side of Alice's face as he rode out his climax above her, toes curling against his skin in ecstasy. The dark-haired man looked down as he bit into his own lip, watching as the disheveled face of his lover peered up at him with lust-filled eyes and a devilish smirk to match his own. The dirty blonde woman's hair was strewn about her face, looking wild a haughty as her sculpted, voluptuous figure was pinned beneath him and shown with a thin sheen of sweat from their sexual endeavors. The well-muscled man bucked into her one last time, earning a final lengthy, deep and drawn out moan from her and her tapered waist was raised once again against his abdomen before she fell back onto the bed the final time that night.

Negan finally rolled off of the woman once he was content with his work, grinning at the woman as her burnished complexion shone back at him with the evidence of her own climax whilst her pair of arched eyebrows raised at him in a devious manner. Licking his lips as he shifted his body up into a sitting position, keeping his gaze locked with his lover's cat-eyed ones, he let his tongue flick out over the small speck of blood that was oozing from his freshly-bitten skin.

"Mm, baby..." Alice purred, rotating her body across across the wrinkled sheets so that she could lay her head upon his ribs. "Tonight was _so_ good. I really needed that."

Negan's smirk grew wider as he glanced down at the untidy woman, her shoulder-length hair ruffled into knots and frizz that he knew she would be cursing him for in the morning whilst she readied herself for work. He chuckled at the thought and let his hand entangle itself the rats-nest that was upon her head before he gave her a few gentle, affectionate scratches behind the ear.

"Was the best fuck I've had in awhile." The man replied, giving her head a final rub before he swung his legs over the side of the bed, causing her to slide away from his body with a mewl of displeasure as he stood up.

"You're leaving?" Alice groaned, propping herself onto her elbows as she watched the man begin to pull on his jeans that were on the floor beside her bed. "Can't you stay the night just _once_?" The woman's eyes narrowed fervently as Negan simply muttered something under his breath that she couldn't quite catch. Her glower raked over him angrily whilst he shimmied on his final piece of clothing: that godforsaken signature leather jacket that he seemed to wear no matter what the occasion. "Or is that all I am to you, Negan, a good fuck?"

 _Here we fucking go again._

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he ran a large hand through his own disheveled locks before shooting the pouting woman an irritated glare. This was the fourth time she had done this in the past month- and they'd only been sleeping together for the two. Each and every time he would come over they'd have dinner, have some nice conversation over their meal, erupt into some impassioned foreplay, then finally he'd carry her upstairs and he would pound her into oblivion. It was supposed to be that simple, but this woman for the past four weeks just seemed displeased with only that. She wanted him to _cuddle_ and _stay the night_. And quite frankly the shit was getting _old._

"We're having a fucking _affair,_ Alice." He growled, roughly grabbing his wallet and keys from the cherrywood nightstand at her beside before shoving them into his pockets. "If you haven't fucking noticed I still have a mother fucking wife and you still have a mother fucking husband. We both agreed that we'd just screw around until your asspirate of a husband got back from the fucking marines. _You're_ the one making things god damn complicated here."

Negan watched as the woman's face flashed with defiance and that invisible flare being lit deep within her that always ignited whenever they fell upon this topic in particular. He was always able to identify it by the way her cat-like eyes would narrow to slits, her plump lips would stretch into a thin, ferocious line and her eyebrows would knit together so tightly it nearly gave her a unibrow. She also would emanate a certain aura in which he knew that she was royally pissed then and there. However, each time she would give him that look she would always remain silent.

Therefore, he knew that she was aware that he was right.

And _damn_ , did that woman seem to detest when he was right.

Feeling a sense of triumph wash over him, Negan swooped down to snag his boots off of the floor so that he could slip them back on before flashing the woman a toothy grin. "See you Friday, babe." He cooed, giving the woman whom was still trembling with fury a quick peck on the cheek before he slipped out from her bedroom, closing the door behind him a bit louder than needed.

As soon as he had exited the room he felt a sudden calm wash over him. Every single time Alice had brought up him staying the night it set him on the edge of giving in or giving up. Each time those words fell from her lips he had the urge to either crawl back into bed next to her in order to avoid the cold shoulder of his own wife back at home once he arrived so late into the night smelling of another woman. But then he also had another itch in which told him to scratch her the hell _out_ of his life because as of late she had been making what was supposed to be his relief into even more stress set upon his shoulders.

When he'd met Alice a few months back at one of the school events he was forced to attend due to being the varsity baseball coach they had instantly clicked. Their chemistry was inevitable and practically anyone who had joined in on the conversation with the two were able to sense it as well. They had talked the entire night away at the fundraiser and at the end of the night Negan realized that he had successfully avoided his wife as well as any other nagging beings that often times would show up just to stress him out all the more. Nope! For he had spent his whole evening mingling with what he swore to be the exact definition of MILF and the entire time he had not felt an ounce of anxiety, worry or irritation. It was like when he spoke to her he was able to block out all of the bad things in his life- and he had to admit he fucking _reveled_ in such a thing.

Especially since for the past two year him and his wife had been on the rocks. Constant fighting, bickering, passive aggressiveness and sex was just as foreign as a stray dog in Chinatown. Hell, the two would barely even talk to one another unless it involved them screaming at the other about how miserable they made their lives. So who could even imagine the giddiness that Negan felt in his heart when a beautiful, voluptuous woman with a personality nearly identical to his nearly fell into his arms with her legs practically spread open as an invitation when she slipped him her number at the end of the night. No-fucking-one. That's fucking who.

And that's how it all had started- them fucking one another at least three times a week in order to drown out the loneliness and stress in their lives- even if it was only for a few hours that they became blind to it. With her husband away for months at a time in the marines and his wife being as friendly as a fucking KKK member during the 1940s, they had each found their lives were twisting into a downward spiral for what had felt like forever until they had discovered each other. Or more so had discovered their sex sessions in which had always managed to alleviate some- if not most- of that tension temporarily.

And it was all fine and dandy for that month or so. They'd eat, talk, fuck, rinse and repeat until they were both satisfied weekly and then he would slink back off to lay beside his bitter wife in bed until the sun rose. And of course Negan had always thought that things would be that way- but of course something that he absolutely hated began occurring.

And that was him being proven wrong.

Ever since they had reached to the two month mark of their sexual rendezvous Alice had been growing clingier and causing him more stress than ever. She had been texting him nonstop, begging him to come over more and to spend more time with her when they both had off work and had even begun to plead with him to stay the night. It was almost as if he was handling a completely different woman nowadays and he absolutely despised it. He just wanted his fuck buddy back- his stress reliever. The sexily scandalous woman who would ride him into the night and watch him exit her bedroom with a devious smirk on her face instead of that fiery, tear-filled one he was beginning to begrudgingly grow accustomed to.

So, quite frankly, as of recently he was left wondering if this woman was really all she was deemed out to be by him months before. She had grown needy, whiny and overall belligerently annoying. The sex was good, hell fucking yeah, but- he can't believe he's saying this- sometimes the sex really ain't worth the bitching and moaning of the necessitous woman giving it you. Hell, she even had a fucking _kid._ Thankfully he'd never met the little brat despite her attending the same school that he coached at, thus explaining why her mother was at the same fundraiser that he was that night. He'd seen pictures of her kid hanging around the house plenty and had even seen numerous signs of her living in the house- such as, regrettably, the small pairs of panties inside of the hamper that were obviously too tiny to fit around her mother's womanly figure. There had been other signs of her being there as well- of course as it was her own fucking house in which she fucking lived in- but despite those small signatures he had still never laid eyes on the girl. He hadn't really thought much of it or cared about the fact seeing as it didn't matter whether or not he knew her or had some sort of bond with her since her mother and him were just fuck buddies a few times a week. Hell, he had even assumed that the kid didn't even _know_ about him seeing as the two had never run into one another while he was ov-

His train of thought was cut off abruptly as he felt something bump against his lower chest whilst he made his way down the hallway, causing him to blink confusedly before looking down to see what had disrupted him. And what he saw before his very eyes nearly caused him to shudder at the irony.

Coiling up against his chest, her body frozen against his muscled own, was a tiny little blonde head that shook itself as if she was just as perplexed by the situation as he was. He watched with a raised brow as she brought a small, pale hand up to the top of her head, rubbing at the pale blonde tresses that ran down her back and past her waist until her eyes began to flutter up to meet his. She was gazing at him through long, thick eyelashes with these huge innocent chocolate brown eyes which resembled that of a baby deer and her pouty rosen lips began to gape slightly in surprise. It was then that he recognized her as the girl that he had seen in the photos hanging around the house these past two months and he found his eyes growing wider at the realization.

His eyes then met hers and the small baby-faced girl's pale cheeks then suddenly seemed to fill with a harsh burning red that caused her to resemble a tomato. In that same second she jumped backwards, seemingly wanting to put a decent amount of space between her and Negan as she had deemed their contact far too inexplicable. His eyes further scanned her then as she unknowingly gave him an even better view of her petite frame. The man was able to pick out that she didn't really resemble her mother very much. Even if they were both blondes, Alice's hair was fair shorter and darker than her daughter's, which was more of a pale blonde- nearly white- shade. Alice also had blue eyes compared to the girl's cocoa-brown and not to mention that their height difference nearly deemed them of a different species. Alice came up to about Negan's chin, which was far taller than most girls he knew considering he was a man of substantial height himself. The older woman also had a much more voluptuous, womanly figure than the girl in front of him. The tiny pale blonde adorned a very petite, fairy-like body that made him feel as if he grasped her too tightly she would shatter into a million pieces. She was tiny and fragile-looking, but much to his surprise her body wasn't what he deemed as childlike. Her hips still had a tantalizingly small, round swell that contrasted beautifully from her miniscule waist that what he could make out, though due to her baggy nightshirt he was a bit unsure.

However, the biggest contrasting feature that she had from her mother was the sweet, elfin baby-face that she possessed. While Alice had always had a very devious, cat-like look to her that could easily lure any man into her bed, her daughter adorned the sweetest, most delicate face that he had ever laid eyes on. She had such a dainty and soft heart shaped face with chubby, protruding cheeks that were lined with a small apple-dimpled chin framed perfectly by her angelic locks. He couldn't help but admire the way her large- astoundingly wide- almond-shaped eyes, so chocolate brown and sweet with long, dark eyelashes fluttered up to him with embarrassment. And the way her thick, dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she caught sight of him- so differently from the way her mother's knitted together in defiance and anger. And _damn,_ the way her round, plump pink lips parted to draw in a sharp breath when their gazes met. It was almost like he was staring at an angel- a breathtakingly beautiful teenage cherub. Those pictures hanging on the walls certainly did not do her justice.

But then she spoke.

"I-I'm s-sorry!" The elfin beauty suddenly squeaked, abruptly tearing her way into his thoughts as she quickly turned on her heel, stumbling clumsily and nearly falling to her knees on the hardwood before redeeming herself and taking off back down the hall. Negan watched with perpetual amusement as she nearly slid into a wall in her baggy-socked feet, causing her to skid to a halt and grab hold of what he assumed to be her bedroom door's knob and yanked it open before diving inside for a very ungraceful refuge. It was an adorable act of clumsiness he had to admit- and he sure as hell wasn't one for the sweet-faced innocent type. It had amused him all the more so though that he had taken such an interest in her despite the fact. And it was strangely...enlightening. Or more so _she_ was.

A toothy smirk then began to play on Negan's lips as he stared after the door which beheld the tiny angel-faced girl who had made her less-than-graceful exit only seconds ago before he turned to make his way down the stairs.

"Nice to fucking meet you too." He chuckled.

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

It was a dream- it had to be.

Seeing her clutched limply into the arms of the bedraggled Dwight must have been a hallucination- a fucking delusion. It was because it simply _had_ to be due to the fact that if it _was_ her…

He might just **break.**

So as one of his highest-ranking lieutenants limped forward with her tiny frame in his grasp, her left leg dangling limply and bleeding profusely from a wound that caused his heart to shatter even more so, he nearly took a step back when Dwight was only a foot away from him. It was as if the blonde girl in his arms radiated a searing heat that only Negan could feel and if she was too close to him, his flesh would be sweltered right off of the bone.

They were close now. So close-too close- that he could easily make out the smallest of her delicate features that he had longed to see for nearly two and half godforsaken years. Those features that haunted his dreams at night, tearing down the Big Bad Wolf that he had built up ever since the end of the world and left him curled into a ball like the little pig that he knew he was deep down. It made him fear that she would be the inevitable end to everything he had created and made for himself in this new world. But at the same time he couldn't help but yearn to be near her, especially with her now so close. A day had not gone by since he had believed he'd lost her in which she did not cross his mind and he wished that things could've been different. She was most certainly his weakness...and he was not sure if he could have that in this new world.

 _Could she really be my breaking point?_

"Negan? Hey, Negan?"

The sound of Dwight's hoarse voice suddenly shook him out of his silent, hidden panic, causing him to pry his eyes away from the small pixie in his lieutenant's arms and instead to his man himself. His mouth felt drier than he could ever remember- almost as if he had a wad of cotton tucked into his cheek that was subsequently draining him of any saliva left within his body. However, he forced himself to respond.

Empowering himself to maintain his deviously charming composure, Negan forcefully uprooted the tree of terror that was seeded within him from the second that he had laid eyes on her and replanted the one of domination and terror that had been growing within him for so long. He cleared his throat, fist clenching tightly to Lucille and he allowed his sinister, toothy smirk to play along his lips per usual before turning his attention back to the terrified group before him.

"Looks like both of our fucking people got a few good hits in on one anot-"

"You said her name."

Taken aback, Negan withdrew his lingering gaze and instead set it precisely onto the one person who had spoken up once again: Rick's son. He could feel his brow raising in amusement at this.

"Carl, p-please." Rick begged his son silently, a stream of blood and tears flowing from his eyes. "Please."

"You called her Lucy." The teenage boy fumed, his one eye blazing with fury as it deadlocked onto the grinning Negan. "You know her."

Normally the immensely powerful man would've immediately shut down yet another outburst from the very defiant young boy, however his protectiveness over the small blonde girl itched something deep within Negan that was beginning to cause memories to painfully surface. And sadly, he was able to identify such a feeling all too well.

It was one that had defined his life both before and after he had met her. However it seemed to flow through every vein in his body all the more fervently whenever he thought about her or saw her. It was an overwhelming dilemma. It was one that he still held onto tightly today with his wives back home and to everything that rightfully belonged to him.

 _Possessiveness._

It was nothing new to anyone that Negan was a very selfish, territorial jerk who did not like to share. In fact most people knew that just from looking at him somehow. They claimed that he had that "aura" to him in which enabled them to realize they wouldn't be able to pry his fingers away from _anything_ that he wanted. And he had to admit that he enjoyed emitting such powerful and overwhelming vibe which told them such- one that practically _spoke_ for him. However, the level of proprietorial rage that flowed within him at the sight of someone else being such a way towards her nearly caused him to use his _beloved_ Lucille to smash not only the kid's head in, but everyone else's in his fucking group. But Negan had more self-control than that now. He had sewn into his DNA the art of remaining utterly and irrevocably _calm_ and _collected_.

"You're fucking curious?" The man laughed, forcing himself to maintain his charming and sinister front as he locked eyes- or, well, eye- with the insubordinate son of Rick ferociously. He watched as the shaggy-haired teenager's fists seemed to clench into tight fists at the dirt below him, obviously fighting off the urge to spring forward rip out the confident man's throat with his own teeth. Surprisingly, though, Negan enjoyed that. That fiery defiance, the undying determination…

 _He'll be fun to fucking break._

With the thought still dancing in his head, he turned back to Dwight who was still holding the barely-conscious girl in his arms in a way that made Negan's stomach turn and eyes narrow. It fucking _pissed_ him off- _infuriated_ him to no end- to see one of his lieutenant's grasping at her delicate body which oozed dark crimson in such a manner.

 _As if she's trash- worthless._

However, Negan began to feel a fucking _excellent_ idea start to surface within that sick little head of his.

"Lemme hold her." He said suddenly, his voice resonating in a way that an excited father would approach holding his newborn baby. It was laced with a taunting excitement, one that he was sure would sent shivers down the spine of each of her group mates- especially that disobedient little shit who seemed to take a particular liking to _his_ girl. He would make sure that he would succeed in royally pissing him off before the day came to and end.

Of course what he was doing was to unsettle her comrades, in fact he was doing absolutely everything that he could in his power to make them all the more fearful and compliant to him as humanly possible. And he knew that by cradling one of their injured friend's in his arms would surely do the trick.

However, there was also that little nagging voice in the back of his head that was mocking him all the more so than anything he had ever heard. It was teasing him, practically screaming at him that he shouldn't be trying to act so oblivious to what his true intentions were. His conscience was prodding at him, poking and making fun until he couldn't help but begin to agree with it.

 _"You faggy fucking fuck!"_ It taunted him silently, nearly causing him to flinch as Dwight made his way over to him with his prize in his arms. _"Don't fucking try and act god damn stupid! We_ _ **both**_ _know the_ _ **real**_ _fucking_ _reason_ _you're trying to get your god damn hands on her, you possessive shitdick! You can barely fucking stand them all staring at her, let alone having one of your ass-eating mercenaries coddling her like a newborn!"_

Growling irritably just low enough so that only he was able to hear it, Negan did his best to ignore the derisive voice inside of his head as Dwight began to carelessly slip the barely-conscious girl into his arms, much to the displeasure of not only Carl, but his entire group.

"Easy, _easy_ now." The leather-clad man cooed, watching as the girl's heavily-lidded and glazed brown eyes seemed to widen slightly at the sight of him. He wasn't quite too sure if she recognized him yet, she still seemed a bit too disoriented by her blood loss and being knocked unconscious by whom he had surmised was Dwight. He was about to question the scrawny man on the situation, but by the time the weightless blonde was situated into Negan's hulking grasp in a bridal-style, he had already obediently stepped away from his boss and back to the edge of the crowd to watch what further torture would ensue. He decided that he would simply have to gather the exact details a little later then.

Negan's eyes then slowly danced from each of Rick's people until the landed deftly on Carl, causing his own eyebrows to raise in amusement at the expression on the boy's face. It was twisted into a look of pure rage and scorn, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed the rocky soil beneath them with furious fists that he was sure were just _begging_ to meet his jaw. And, _oh_ , how it was practically _orgasmic_ to see the pure fear and mortification that was twinkling in Rick's broken gaze as his son looked just about to pounce.

 _C'mon kid._ The man taunted silently, reaching his hand down to grasp one of the pale, matted curls between his thumb and middle finger so that he could roll the silky tresses along their skin. An even toothier smirk began to play across his lips as wave of memories crashed over him at the feeling of her soft locks against him, though he was sure that the grin seemed to be one more of taunting than it was longing to the others. He couldn't help but thank god that that seemed to be truth because when his gaze rose once again to scan the clearing he couldn't help but notice the horrified expression on each of their face's, but Rick's kid's. He still beheld that look of absolutely untamed vehemence as he glared up at the large man from behind his shaggy bangs. This only made Negan's smile grow wider. _Fucking try it._ _ **Come**_ _the fuck_ _at me,_ _kid._

However, the raging teen, much to his own disappointment, seemed to be only good at spitting venom and not injecting it into his enemy. The kid merely sat there, fisting the rocky soil, breathing heavily and glowering up at him with those eyes which were identical in color to his father's.

"Like father, like fucking son. Both still too much of a pussy to fight for what they fucking want." Negan laughed, watching as both Rick and his child flinched visibly at his words. He could tell that his mocking was beginning to get the best of them and they would both soon be upon the ground in the broken pieces he was yearning to observe. But, he knew, that they still had plenty of time for that. For now, he was a bit more concerned with something else…

"Simon." He piped up, watching as mustached right-hand-man peered up at him with amused, expecting eyes. "Would you mind informing the rest of these shitstains how things will be operating around here from now on? I've got some fucking business to attend to." Negan's toothy smile stretched wider than ever as began to turn on his heel, his back facing his new "workers" after Simon eagerly obeyed and he started towards his truck with a weak cry from Rick's son resonating through the clearing.

 _Music to my fucking ears._

"Toodaloo!" He called after them, his hidden face beginning to fall as his eyes made their way down to the now-completely outcold blonde laying limply in his arms.

"Lucille, baby." He then whispered, trying to choke down the shakiness in his voice.

From here on out he wasn't sure if her reintroduction into his life would be just what needed all this time…

...Or his inevitable end.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

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* * *

 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#3~  
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* * *

 **Series:** The Walking Dead **  
Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing:** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note : **whew. this chapter was quite a bit longer than i had originally anticipated- almost 9,000 words to be exact- and i even had cut out a lot of parts i had wanted to initially include to keep it from being too lengthy. it includes a lot of back story though, including how lucille met rick's group and became part of them, so it's a good exlanation for a lot of things. it's a bit slow, but everything included in it has meaning to it. the story is really going to start picking up next chapter thankfully. also thank you all for 20+ follows to this story and 10+ favorites, as well as the few of you who had sent me some really lovely reviews. shout outs to Nameless Fable, Team Carlisle, EJM87 and Fall-Back-Down for your kind words and verbal support! they really meant _a lot_ me honestly and really helped motivate me to continue.  
 **Please: ** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve c:

* * *

 _"Nothing is more frightening than a fear you cannot name."_  
 _-Cornelia Funke, Inkheart  
_

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

By the time Negan had made his way onto one of the back roads in the rundown old pick-up truck that he had situated himself and Lucille in he couldn't tell if it was his head or heart that was throbbing harder. He had taken strict notice that as soon as he had laid eyes upon the girl that he was 99.9% sure was his long lost- he didn't dare say the word-that his breathing had been uneven and his heartbeat irregular. And frankly it was beginning to piss him off.

" _Get a fucking hold of yourself you fucking pussy!"_ That all-too-familiar voice began to taunt him at the back of his mind again. _"She left you for dead! What the mother fucking hell are you so excited to see her for? If anything it should've been_ _ **her**_ _god damn_ _head that you bashed in back there, not the whiny Asian kid's or Red's._ _In my opinion she was much more mother fucking worthy._ _"_

Negan felt his hands tightening angrily on the steering wheel as the sound of his own taunting words filtered through his mind, nearly causing him to accidentally honk the horn and awaken every walker within a three mile radius and let them know it was supper time. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his situation as a whole, the leather-clad man swerved abruptly so that the truck was now situated on the side of the road, practically hidden by a heaping mass of rotting corpses. He had ordered his men to place them there as a warning sign weeks ago for anyone who lingered a bit too close to the Sanctuary, but for now it proved as a good spot for him to try and calm down so that he could organize his thoughts.

Switching off the engine so that he could contemplate his newfound issue without the obnoxious rumbling and hissing of the old truck, he then turned his head to look down at the unconscious baby-faced blonde splayed ungracefully across the seat beside him. When he had laid her down in the truck earlier he could've sworn that he'd had been as gentle as humanly possible and probably a lot more kind than he had ever been with another human being in his whole entire life. But by the way she was now spread about upon the dirtied upholstery with her head and legs practically hanging off, one arm thrown over her bruised face with the other tucked around her torso which was bent at an awkward angle due to the seat belt he had managed to buckle around her so that she wouldn't roll away- it practically looked as if all he done was toss her in by her ankle before driving off. And that only succeeded in pissing him off _even more_ than he was before. Especially since he had been incredulously meticulous and careful when placing her limbs into proper and comfortable positions that he knew wouldn't cause her any issues when she did finally awaken from her seemingly-everlasting slumber. However before he could let out a slew of curse words at all of his hard work gone to waste, his eyes fell upon something a bit more unnerving than her limbs tossed about so awkwardly.

The deep stab wound that her left thigh adorned which was now beginning to elicit a few small streams of blood.

 _That was her screaming in the woods earlier._ Negan thought to himself, feeling a bit heartbroken and uneasy at the thought. _The other one must've been...Wade._ Oddly enough the man was unable to feel anywhere near the amount of remorse and hurt that he felt for the small girl beside him that he hadn't seen in years for his very own _lieutenant._ In fact if anything he was starting to feel a wave of anger and vengeance start to prick at his gut when his mind began to piece together that it was most likely Wade who had caused her that wound.

 _"_ _Oh, get the_ _ **fuck**_ _over it you fucking pussy."_ There his conscience goes again. _"She tried to fucking scoop out the eyes of one of your men and here you are feeling pissy that he stabbed her in_ _ **retaliation**_ _. Jesus Christ on a mother fucking bike._ _Y_ _ou really are better off tossing her out of this truck at this exact god damn minute if she's gonna be making you feel that fucking way."_

"Shut the fuck up." Negan muttered irritably, unsure if he was more pissed that the voice in his head was saying what it was or if because it was actually _right_. He knew that he had done a good job covering up what he had went through when he saw the girl back at the clearing with all of his men and brand new hostages surrounding him, but underneath he knew that he was feeling something completely different as soon as his eyes fell upon her. It was an emotion he hadn't experienced in quite some time- since before the whole end of the world thing had happened. It was something that he had only really ever underwent when she was around he had noticed. It was something that never bubbled up inside of him even when he was bashing in the skull of some poor undeserving fucker or pounding one of his wives into oblivion. It was something…

...Unwelcome.

It was something he couldn't be feeling in this world.

It would enable him weak and powerless.

It was something that should have never resurfaced in the first place.

He could feel a scowl beginning to dance on his lips, however his hands ignored the expression of disgust as he then began to unwillingly dig through the glove box of the old truck in search for something he could try and bind her wound with. Much to his own disappointment though he had only discovered that the small compartment merely beheld two unused condoms, a burnt out cigarette, a handful of miscellaneous shell casings and a rusty pocket knife.

 _Fan-fucking-tastic._ The man cursed to himself inside of his own head, feeling an annoyance begin to bubble up within him. They were still a forty five minute drive or so from the Sanctuary by then and he wasn't too sure if her body would have enough strength to clot her up well enough to prevent any further damage. Especially since by the looks of her weren't all too promising.

Her skin was a lot paler than he remembered, which could of course simply be because of the conditions she had been living in, but something deep inside of him was telling him that a person shouldn't ever be such a light shade no matter how malnourished they were. She was lacking that beautiful, dewy alabaster luster that he remembered always getting lost in when they were both still in the world before. Her lips had begun to lose their pink rosy hue and instead had refuged into a dim, pale purple. Even her under eyes and lids now had a dark and unhealthy gleam to them. But he couldn't help but think about how...peaceful she looked despite her situation. Negan had always known how she was always able to remain so calm and collected in her situations- much like himself- as she had always done so when the two were close. However she did have the halcyon aura to her that he had never quite been able to possess properly. He was a brute- a bloodthirsty and dominating one at that. He preferred to bludgeon people to death at a mere eye roll or outburst. But her…?

"Her." Negan growled, his eyes narrowing vexatiously at the paling frail girl before he began to fumble blindly in an attempt to bind up her wound sufficiently enough to ensure her survival on their way to the Sanctuary.

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak**

"Woman, I'm telling you for the eighth god damned I really don't fucking care. Hell, I'd probably do the same thing if I ran into the guy my mom was banging in my own house. I'd be _pissed_ too."

Negan raised an amused brow as Alice shot him a dirty look from across the kitchen where she was stirring a large pot of bubbling blood-red sauce. The curvaceous woman had already changed from her scrubs in which the hospital she nursed at required her to wear and was donning a simple long-sleeved pale blue top and black yoga pants that accentuated her plump ass. A smirk slowly spread across his face as he took note about how she always wore those leggings in particular whenever he was around in order to continuously catch his eye- not that it took much to do so when it came to her. His eyes would either be glued to her backside or chest ninety nine percent of the time without her even trying.

He began to prepare his own retaliation to whatever she was going to throw back at him when he saw her mouth beginning to open, however she seemed to freeze in place when they both heard the front door open and close softly. The two adults strained to listen as the gentle noises of someone slipping off their shoes in the foyer sounded, causing them both to share a long, uncertain glance before the owner of those noises stepped out: the small blonde girl who had rammed her head into his groin only two nights before.

However, he had to admit that she did look quite a bit different from afar and when she wasn't wearing a set of pajamas that made her body seem shapeless and clunky. The small girl- whose name he had learned earlier from Alice was Lucille (and he quite liked it, he thought it had a nice ring to it)- was wearing a relatively simple outfit, at least it was simple compared to that of what most girls seemed to wear at the school they both worked at and went to. She adorned a simple oatmeal colored cableknit sweater which she had to roll up at the wrists, a black skirt and baggy black socks that hung a bit loosely around her tiny legs. Negan also noted how her hair looked quite differently as well. Instead of the girl having her waist-length pale wavy locks hanging loosely about her face as she had the night they met, she had them pulled back into long French braid which had been tossed carelessly over her shoulder. But the one thing about Alice's daughter that hadn't seemed to change since the time she had head butted him in the groin forty eighty hours ago was that look of absolute mortification across her delicate face.

Those great big brown Bambi eyes were just as wide and her thick, dark eyebrows furrowed with just as much confusion and fear as they had been during their first encounter. Her petite stature was rigid beneath the oversized sweater she wore and her fingers were beginning to slide cautiously into the far-too-big rolled up sleeves, clutching at the woolen tresses as if just encountering the man nearly sent her into a catatonic shock. He was even able to make out her sock-covered toes beginning to curl inwards against the glistening hardwood floors below. And for some strange reason…

...He kinda liked it.

"Lucy, you're home sweetie." Alice suddenly piped up, wiping her hands on a dish towel that was crumpled up on the counter beside the drying rack. The blonde girl didn't respond though, her attention seemed to be much too focused on the man that was leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand to even hear that she was being spoken to by someone else. Negan, prying his dark gaze from the terrified chocolate brown one searing into him, managed to catch Alice's panicked blue ones and he raised an amused brow at her before giving her a slight shrug. "Now honey..." The woman began, observing as her daughter's eyes seemed to widen slightly as if she was only now realizing she was being spoken to.

"Aw, for fucks _sake,_ Alice." Negan suddenly butt in, his voice ringing loudly throughout the kitchen and causing both the of his female counterparts to jump at the abrupt change in tone. "You didn't even tell this poor kid about this whole bullshit dinner, did you?"

The voluptuous woman shot him a fiery glare, her brows beginning to furrow in that way that told him he should probably shut his damn mouth. "She wouldn't have agreed to it if I told her about it beforehand, so you can fucking shut it."

Negan, setting his beer down on the counter so that he could dramatically place his hand across his chest in a joking manner which made him seem as if he was offended, let out an overly theatric gasp before speaking again, "Well, ex-fucking-scuse me! I did not know that we were back to the god damn medieval days where it was fucking normal to force your kids to stare across the dinner table at the guy who has been drilling not only her mom from behind- but her dad too!"

"Negan!" Alice started again, her fury and embarrassment seeming to heighten as he prodded not only at the fact that she was cheating on her husband, but she was also forcing her own child to condone it and act as if it were a normal thing. However, before the woman could bring herself to insult the tall smug-faced man across from her, she instead turned to look into the tomato red face of Lucille who was now practically cowering behind the half-wall that separated the kitchen from the foyer. "Lucy..." The curvaceous woman sighed, walking towards her daughter so that she was standing nearly in front of her before taking the smaller set of hands into her own and flashing her a bright smile as if to try and calm her down. "Why don't you go upstairs and get washed up before we eat? I made one of your favorites- spaghetti."

Negan strained his neck to see the small girl cowering behind her mother's frame and was able to make out a conflicted look spread across her face before she simply gave her mother a soft, barely noticeable nod before she withdrew her hands from Alice's. He watched with amusement while Lucille slowly began to seemingly tiptoe across the hardwood floor towards the stairs as if she were walking upon eggshells. She was gingerly placing one small foot ahead of the other whilst never placing the whole thing onto the ground as if she were afraid to make a sound.

"C'mon kid, I'm hungry as fuck." He then muttered aloud, watching as her head spun around and her horrified brown eyes met his teasing ones. Just seeing those big chocolate moons look so petrified and helpless only made him crave more of her adorable reactions, so he decided to add one last prod to satiate his thirst for her embarrassment. "Plus the longer you take, the longer I gotta wait to bend your mom over that counter over there and take her until next Tuesday, so I'd appreciate a little hustle please."

And that was more than enough to send the tiny blonde right over the edge.

Before he could even see a change in her expression- a bit to his own disappointment- she was off. She had slipped and nearly fell numerous times due to her socked feet and own clumsiness, practically tumbling and sliding across the hardwood as if she were on ice before she managed to finally make it to the stairs. Without even a glance back at the two she sped up steps, this time successfully stumbling so that her left knee met with one of the wooden planks, but she seemed as if she couldn't have been bothered less by it. In fact she had completely ignored her less-than-graceful spill before darting up the rest of the staircase, sliding around the corner and disappearing down the hallway in which he recognized from before to behold her bedroom door.

 _Priceless._ He thought to himself, allowing one of the most toothy and sinister smirks that he had ever summoned within him to bubble to his surface before lifting his beer back to lips for a satisfied swig.

"That was _not_ necessary you continental fucking asshole." Alice hissed at him, strutting across the kitchen to reclaim her spot near the stove so that she could proceed to monitor the now-bubbling sauce.

"Of course it wasn't." Negan mused, his eyes trailing from the curvaceous woman cooking their meal and back to the staircase where the tiny pixie girl had made her graceless exit only moments ago. "But it was entertaining as hell."

Alice murmured something under her breath at his reply that he couldn't quite pick up, though he assumed that it had been on purpose and decided to leave it undisclosed in order to prevent a potential argument. He also figured that an awkward silence would soon ensue- something of which he really wasn't all too keen on- if he didn't choose another topic to discuss with his voluptuous fuck buddy within the next few seconds. So he simply blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, but really it had been lingering there ever since he had run into Lucille two nights ago.

"So she knows about us now?" He questioned, eyes still fixated on the staircase. "Aren't you worried that she'll tell your husband?"

Negan watched as the woman's stirring of the pot ceased gradually until it came to a full stop and her body seemed to tense for a moment until relaxing back into its original state. She slowly set down the sauce-covered spoon, wiping her hands on the same towel as earlier, before finally swiveling her body around to face him. For some reason he had expected her to be angry,- after all he had practically sent her daughter into a catatonic shock only moments ago- but much to his own surprise her face had an almost...guilty look it to it. She was biting into her bottom lip, something he noted that her daughter had inherited from her, and her eyes were refusing to meet his. In fact it seemed as if they were everywhere around the room but on his face. Which, of course, he found a bit insulting considering he was the best god damn looking thing not only in this room, but on this entire planet.

"Lucy she ah..." Alice began, her eyes still refusing to meet Negan's curious own, "She..."

 _Oh, for fucks sake. Don't tell me she picked up her daughter's stuttering habit._

"Well? Spit it the fuck out woman. We don't got all god damn night." He growled, feeling a bit of impatience starting to gnaw away at him. The way she was acting was as if her daughter wanted in or the nightly sexual rendezvous or something. And for some strange fucking reason with that thought he was beginning to wonder if he would say yes if that was the case.

"She already knows, Negan." The woman finally sighed, finally meeting Negan's eyes. "She's known since well...the beginning."

Finally tearing his eyes away from where Alice's daughter had scampered off to a few minutes ago now, he peered to her with a pair of raised eyebrows. "And she doesn't care?"

Alice seemed to hesitate slightly before reluctantly answering him. "It isn't that she doesn't care. It's just that..." Negan watched, quite a bit perplexed, as the woman let out a long sigh and leaned heavily against the counter top. "Lucille knows right from wrong, she is a big girl. Therefore she knows what I am doing is...well, wrong. But she also knows that I am lonely and am in pain with her father consistently being gone. In fact when she found out that I was cheating she...She told me that as long as I was safe and happy so was she."

 _This fucking kid, man._ Negan thought to himself, aghast. _You look at her and she looks like she's fresh out of sixth grade, but she seems to have the god damn maturity level of a fifty year old_ _war vet_ _._

Or at least that is how it sounded from the shit Alice is saying. _  
_  
"She is a sweet girl." His lover continued, a soft, faint smile beginning to appear on her lips. "She's quiet and she's soft-hearted- a bit too shy but...she's too good a child for me. She wants me to have happiness in my life, even if she doesn't support my way of achieving it. So she doesn't tell anyone about what is going on between you and I- for me. Which I know isn't fair or in any type of way motherly but...I...she knows I need this. So she turns the blind eye to my sins and lives her life the way she always has...and I love her all the more for it."

Negan watched as the woman's wandering, love-filled eyes traveled back up from gazing at the staircase after what he assumed was Lucille and then back to his own very much so baffled ones. He knew that she could tell that he was shocked, though there seemed to be no shame in her revealing the truth behind her daughter's knowledge of their affair. If anything she only seemed to be humiliated by the fact that she was causing her daughter to go through with her sinful secrets and that she was willingly obliging to her mother's selfish needs. He knew that hearing the truth of the situation secondhand was probably nothing compared to the shock that Alice must've experienced when her daughter revealed everything that she just had to him. It was something that seemed so unreal...almost as if they were in some sort of dream world or a void.

Kids they...just didn't _do_ shit like that. They didn't ignore their own discomfort or pain just so that others could feel pleasure.

But...apparently Lucille did.

"It's terrible...isn't it?" Alice suddenly piped up, her fleecy smile faltering slightly and she was once again refusing to meet his eyes. "You must think I'm a terrible mother."

Negan, a bit amused that this woman for some reason seemingly cared more about what he thought of her than her own daughter, decided that it would be best if he simply enlightened the atmosphere and tried to worry her a bit less. After all, tense sex was the worst.

"It's weird as fuck is what it is, if you want me to be honest. But it makes things less of a pain in the ass, so no arguments here. Just be happy she isn't trying to blackmail you or some shit."

It was then that the two picked up the all-too-familiar barely audible sounds of small feet against the hardwood floor. They turned almost simultaneously, causing Negan to catch sight of Alice's newly-transformed face and nearly catching him off guard. Her wavering smile and crumbling exterior had both vanished as soon as the slightest, earliest hints of Lucille returning to their presence were made clear. She was now adorning that same bright, toothy smile that she did when she was ushering her daughter upstairs in what she said was to wash up- but they all knew was to help her calm down from Negan's insistent teasing. His lover's blue eyes were also back to having that charming twinkle to them that he was so used to instead of that downcast stormy gray which had overcome them only minutes before. They both, however, had their gazes glued to the small, wary blonde who was cautiously inching her way into the room from the staircase with her eyes darting everywhere but in Negan's direction.

 _Huh. Guess her little time out didn't do much good._

"Well, now that we're all here why don't we finish setting the table and table and dig in? I'm starving!" Alice beamed, earning an amused glance from Negan and nervous one from her daughter.

The two of them obviously weren't as enthusiastic about the dinner as their mutual counterpart was- though their lack of spirit was for two vastly different reasons.

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

Everything was...pounding- _throbbing._

Every inch of the girl from her head, to her fingers, to her toes felt as if she had been beaten with a lead pipe relentlessly until her body was damn near unrecognizable.

Her eyelids even still lay fluttered across her pupils because they felt too heavy and painful to even attempt to lift.

She felt inevitably and utterly leaden; as if merely moving one of her fingers would be the equivalent to running an entire marathon. Not to mention the torturous pain that would ripple through her entire being if she even _did_ somehow manage to move. It was a hellish dilemma, especially since it was all that she could focus on at the moment, and due to it she was left completely unaware of her surroundings in every sense possible.

Her feeling and movement was nonexistent, her vision was far beyond impaired- if even possible to focus if she did force open her eyelids, her hearing was astoundingly vague and allowed her to only pick up what sounded like the faint echoes of strange voices from very far away and both her taste and smell were completely off it seemed. Her tongue and lips she could feel were exceptionally dry, as if she had been sucking on a wad of cotton throughout her entire slumber, causing her to let out a very weak, frustrated moan.

She felt so helpless, so...immobilized. Almost is if even if she was able to move, her body wouldn't allow it. It was like some sort of outside force was weighing heavily upon her; holding her down with strong, massive hands pressed firmly against her chest and forcing her to lay within its imprisoning grasp. And she had to admit that she absolutely hated it.

Somehow, despite her fuzzy and disoriented mindset, she was able to somehow _know_ and _comprehend_ that she surely had been through and survived worse. It was like someone- a foreign, unidentifiable voice- was whispering to her softly whilst she resided in her state of pain and delusion, ushering her along to fighting it all subconsciously for the very reason that she had done this _before_. Not under the exact same circumstances, of course, but surely under ones that were just as binding as her current one- if not even more so. And with those words of idly-spoken encouragement she had begun to find herself reminiscing on those moments in particular.

 **[** **Flashback:** **Ten** **months prior to present.** **]**

She was suddenly running somehow; her feet smacking hard against rain-soaked pavement whilst her lungs fought to cool down the fire raging within them. Her eyes were glancing around in a wild surge of fear and adrenaline in what she somehow felt in her bones was a search for a place to hide. There were buildings everywhere, surrounding and towering over her as if they were her enemies themselves. She scanned them each, fighting down the urge to break down into a violent sobbing fit when she began to feel the hopelessness she had abandoned so long ago beginning to bud deep within her. She thought that she had rid herself of this- this feeling of overwhelming doubt and pessimism once she had made her escape from _them_ long ago. _That_ place, _those_ sorry excuses for _survivors,_ the _lies_ they spoke. Once she had broken free of their reign she thought she had been safe- free. Able to roam as she pleased without their burden weighing her down so heavily…

But alas, there she was: Sprinting through the rain-soaked streets of this demolition-ridden city, a screaming baby girl clutched to her chest, writhing in hunger and discomfort as the rain began to immerse the thick blanket that she had thrown over her in an attempt to shield her from the downpour and inevitably...surrounded by the dead. She could feel her energy, her hope, her will...slowly fading.

"Judith..." She whimpered, clutching the shrieking child whom clung to her desperately as her eyes darted from one building to the other, as if questioning them silently which one could somehow provide her the best protection. But of course, they did not reply. They only glowered at her menacingly, taunting her with the countless possibilities of what they each could behold- both the unlikely good and the inevitable bad. They served her no help, no refuge. Just a mere roadblock in her journey to serve this toddler until her death. To keep her safe...alive. To keep the only pure, innocent and beautiful thing left in this world...here.

 _Judith…_

The screams began to echo louder, pressing painfully against her eardrums as she slowly began to exhale and reach her hand down so that she could fumblingly remove the handgun from her back pocket.

 _Judith…_

She withdrew it shakily, one arm gripped protectively around the wriggling baby girl as the other attempted to steady itself so that it could properly aim for the nearest threat's head.

 _Judith._

And then she pulled the trigger- of not only the deadly weapon in her hand, but the deadly weapon within herself.

And that weapon caused the dead to begin to fall around her.

Crumpling, crashing and cascading to the ground as each specifically-designated hot bit of lead situated itself into each of their skulls. There were dozens of them- maybe at least close to thirty or so. But it was almost as if she couldn't even hear the sounds of the bullets, the rain or the hissing, snarling and flailing directed at her and Judith- it was like her mind had completely blocked out all of the sounds. For all she could hear were the high-pitched cries of the tiny girl coddled against her chest, urging her on throughout her uphill battle. She was her determination, her will now. She was the urge to keep going. To keep fighting.

 _Judith._

They kept coming. Fighting ferociously as if simply sinking their teeth into hers and Judith's flesh would be worth any punishment upon this earth no matter what it be- even if that was a bullet to the brain. Such resoluteness and hunger ran through their cold, graying eyes whilst their famished claws lashed out, snagging onto the sodden blanket protecting the wailing baby beneath it, before forcefully yanking it off and nearly claiming the small prize beneath it. Her jaw muscles clenched tightly as she grasped onto the toddler more firmly just in time to bring up her left foot and force it into the stomach of the devil-faced walker who was fighting to assert Judith as its own. She used her leg muscles to throw it back into the monster just behind it, causing them both to tumble to the ground in a fit of frustration. It was a small feat for them considering the situation they were in, but it was a feat nonetheless and it only further empowered her to keep going.

 _'Click.'_

But a small feat is all it seemed that it would be.

She glanced down in horror at the cold, black metal in her trembling hand as her fingers continued to desperately pull at the trigger as if in some crazed miracle a hot piece of led would come barreling out of it and into the rotting, gnashing skull that was nearly clamped down on her forearm.

 _'Click', 'click', 'click'._

It's teeth met the taut material of her thick jacket, growling in displeasure at the lack of human flesh beneath its bite. She was able to feel the harsh, jagged edges of its jaws as the monster began to fight to tear through the barrier to gain access to her skin, thus giving her an especially hard yank that sent her and Judith both tumbling to the ground. Her grip tightened against the small girl as the two spilled onto the pavement of the narrow alley they had fought their way into, using her body to shield the infant from the rough shock of the fall before squeezing her eyes a few times to try and clear the rainwater from them. But as her eyes refocused, doing their best to clear the overwhelming disorientation from them so that she could attempt to continue protecting all that she had left, what she had expected to see was extremely far from what her eyes were picking up.

Instead of being surrounded by approaching walkers who were reaking and wailing with hunger, she was encircled by a group of people- _living_ people- all with their guns drawn on her as the corpses that were trying to kill her moments ago lay at their feet motionless. She barely took notice that her gun was no longer in her hand as it had escaped her grasp during her and Judith's fall and that both of her arms were protectively encasing the infant who was now bumbling incoherently in her ears. She was so caught up in the scene before her that she hadn't even noticed the teenage boy icy blue eyes and a sheriff's hat was screaming at her with his own gun pointed directly between her eyes whilst he ordered her to do something. She would have probably even obliged to him too considering that him and his group had just saved her life, but his voice was completely inaudible to ears which rung violently with only the sound of Judith's small voice. Confusion was setting in rapidly, disallowing for her to even attempt to comprehend her surroundings. All she knew was that she was alive and so was the baby girl in her arms- and that was good enough for her.

 **[Flashback End: Return to present.]**

Her breath suddenly hitched and her eyes flew open, her body jolting upwards as the cold sweat her skin perspired rolled down her neck in countless beads. Her gaze darted around the room in a panic, searching the strange walls that surrounded her as she tried to block out the throbbing pain which threatened to overwhelm her once again. The only thing that was able to distract her from such agony was the disappointment that began to wash over her in waves.

For some reason she had been expecting to see all of the others huddled around her in curiosity and worry with Carl at the head, guns drawn menacingly and staring at her with hope in their eyes like they had in her reminiscence. She thought that she would still be strewn across the pavement of some strange alley, drenched in rainwater with Judith clutched joyously to her chest as Rick's son screamed incomprehensible orders at her. She had thought that she would be back with her friends, wherever they may be...but she seemed farther from it than anything.

She wasn't in that alley.

She wasn't with Judith or Carl or Rick.

She wasn't drenched in rainwater…

She wasn't relived beyond belief as she had been in her memory- in fact she was the farthest from it that she had been in a long while.

Because it was what _did_ surround her that was complete _opposite_ of what she had been hoping for the moment her eyelids forced themselves open.

She wasn't even able to identify where she was exactly, however from what she was able to observe she used the pieces to realize that it was an infirmary of some sorts. Though it most certainly was not Denise's back in Alexandria, much to her own disappointment.

It was a long, rectangular room with faded biege walls adorning diagrams of medicines and the human body which hung about them. The floor had a pristine black-and-white tile that ran from each end of the area while a large window lined the wall adjacent to the cots. In the furthest corner there were a handful of glass-front cabinets that beheld countless bottles of medications pad-locked securely within them along with what looked to be a white-washed kitchenette that had been turned into a cleansing area for the strange health facility. She noticed that each cot had a curtain separating them from one another, though when she strained her hearing she was unable to detect any other noises besides her own heavy breathing. Even the faint echoes of the voices that she was sure in which she had earlier were gone- and for some reason she found that relieving.

For she was well aware of the fact that the only thing that could prove worse than not being around her own people, was being around those _were not_ her own people- more specifically the people in which she had been hearing about as of late. Due to her being in a coma for the past few months after Alexandria was attacked by the Wolves she had been quite out of the loop on what was going on nowadays. The majority of what she had gathered were the numerous deaths of people such as Nicholas, Jessie, her children and even Deanna. There of course were other minor citizens in which she had not really known that had passed, but it really had not felt as if they had been there in the first place if she had to admit- so subsequently their absence went quite unnoticed. She had also been greeted by an overjoyed and now one-eyed Carl when she had first awoken as well and was _much_ taken off-guard by the sight. He had uneasily explained to her how Ron attempted to kill Rick, and though he was killed Michonne via katana through the heart he had managed to fire off a shot that had found its way into his socket- luckily. It was a surprise for her as much as the other occurrences that took place while she was unconscious for so long, however the most startling had to of been when she was vaguely informed on the appearances of a dangerous new group. She hadn't learned much about them except for the fact that they were ruthless, bloodthirsty and out for her people's well being- and that was more than enough to set her off. So when she had finally gathered enough intel on this arising threat, she was more than happy to accompany the others to Hilltop to help provide some sort of protection for Maggie after she begun to experience severe pain in her stomach.

It was then after having their paths blocked numerous times by stomach-churning scenes on their enemy's part that she had slowly begun to realize that the people in which they were dealing with were _not_ to be taken lightly. They _really_ were out for them. They were _relentless._ They had proven so especially after not only tailing them for hours on wheels and on foot, but also when they had fought her tooth and nail in the woods. She could already feel her heart quickening and fingers beginning to itch at the remembrance of not only the actions that they had served her with, but also their _words._

 _"_ _Negan will make you pay for that."_

Just the sound alone of that man's voice could send chills down her spine, but mentioning that name...it had done something to her that nothing had been able to do ever since the world went to shit.

 _"Negan..."_

It made her heart _flutter._

But frankly after hearing his name associated with not only the two men pursuing her, but also with the entire group that was wreaking such havoc on her friends, she found herself _hating_ it. Not even because it donned her a weakness in this world, but because that _he_ could be part of _them._ If the astonishment of him not only being alive wasn't enough to stop her in her tracks that little fact would _surely_ be enough to.

 _Could Negan really be a part of those monsters…?_

"Oh, wow. You're even cuter with your eyes open."

She nearly sent herself back into another coma as the shock of suddenly hearing another voice that wasn't in her head fill her ears and wracked her violently. She must have been so caught up her in her own thoughts and dread that she hadn't even realized another person had made their entrance! Damn her for zoning out so easily…

The small girl turned slowly to see a pretty woman with short brown hair and matching friendly eyes gazing at her warmly from beside the curtain separating her from the cot to her right. She immediately takes notice in the way that she is dressed- a way that is most certainly _not_ common in the apocalypse whatsoever. The woman was wearing a scandalous, tight-fitting sleeveless black dress, matching stiletto heels and even a light dusting of _make-up_.

 _Where the hell did she even manage to find that?_ She thought to herself uneasily, fighting back the urge to sink down under the fresh white sheets that lay over lower body. _Or even find the time to apply it…?_

"Oh! How rude of me!" The stranger up again, still donning that twinkling smile of hers. "I didn't even think to introduce myself; I'm Sherry- one of Negan's-"

"Negan?" She cut in abruptly, her eyes widening with a mixture of emotions at the sound of his name being mentioned again.

There his name was again. Causing her heart to do that thing that it hadn't done in ages…

"...wives." Sherry finished, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. However, for the first time since she had laid eyes on the woman she noticed her friendly front begin to waiver as she spoke the last part of her sentence.

 _And d_ _id she say wife? Or...wives? But Negan only has one wife and she has...cancer._

The woman before her certainly did not look as if she had any type of disease. In fact she looked quite the opposite- quite healthy and lean if she may add. Sherry was an overall thin woman, though she had a model-like physique to her and a tall build that was only accentuated by the heels she adorned. She looked, well, _normal_. At least compared to the women that she had accustomed herself to nowadays who at least were showing a decent amount of bones due to their malnourishment even _with_ decent rations. It was...unsettling.

"Negan, yes." The pretty woman replied, regaining that twinkling smile she adorned the first time she had laid eyes on her. "Of course, you must already know him- or at least of him- because of your affiliation with ah...Rick's...group."

 _Oh, no, that's not it, Sherry… Not at all…_

However, she reluctantly decided to keep that "minuscule" detail to herself. She wanted to be positive of what she was piecing together first before jumping to any conclusions- especially ones as rash as she was coming to. She also was not much of a talker herself, so keeping her mouth shut was not something she was against either, though she couldn't help but fidget uncontrollably during the conversation.

"Negan...He is the one who brought you here after all. Quite personally if I may add. You were legitimately in his arms when you were brought to the infirmary."

 _So after the encounter in the woods with those two men when I saw him...I wasn't just dreaming? I actually_ _ **laid eyes**_ _on him?_

"Negan..." The blonde girl murmured again, though this time it was more quiet and more to herself than the first, almost as if she was unaware that she was saying it.

 _It_ _ **was**_ _him. It_ _ **had**_ _to be…_

The small girl was fighting back the urge to suddenly bombard the woman before her with countless questions as the realization hit her like truck. She wanted to know how he had gotten here and how he had survived. Who he had been with, why he was in a place like this with such _horrible_ people? What had happened after they were separated? Did he look for her? Why hadn't he found her sooner?

However, it seemed that those questions would continue to remain unanswered as Sherry spoke up once again, "Dr. Carson is the one who patched up your wound, though. They said that you were stabbed because you scratched Wade's eyes, right?"

It was then that she begun to feel her stomach churn once again. She was starting to recall that man's- apparently Wade's- screams and how his skin had felt under her nails and the way that his blood had stained her hands. She had lived throughout the experience once and swore that it was more than enough, so taking a walk down memory lane with _that_ vision as the primary source material was something she did not take to quite fondly…

"Don't worry, I'm sure that no one's pissed at you. Wade's a dick." Sherry added quickly, obviously noticing the girls discomfort for the particular subject; and even she- as cold and quiet as she managed to be so far- wasn't able to hold back a soft smile of amusement.

"Are you hungry?" The woman then pressed, as if desperate to keep the conversation going. "They were having roast chicken in the cafeteria today. I even got you a side of fresh vegetables- and the point value on those are quite costly, but Negan insisted."

Before the girl could find herself questioning what the hell the woman meant by "point value" or _how_ she even obtained a _roast chicken_ in this world, she found her eyes unconsciously fluttering to the plate in Sherry's hands that emitted an all too mouthwatering scent. She hadn't even noticed the delicious smelling dish when the woman had first entered the room due to her perpetual surprise and fear, but now it seemed as if it was the _only_ thing that she could find herself to focus on. She wasn't even able to recall the last time she ate, let alone sat down to a decent meal with not only a main course but _also_ a side dish as well. Back in Alexandria they of course had their rations of canned beans, canned corn, canned...cans. It was all canned it seemed. In fact everything that she had ate for the past two years seemed to come in a can. The realization that there was _other_ food out there before that didn't come sealed away behind an aluminum lid hadn't even crossed her mind once for she was all too happy to have simply stumbled across something edible- even if it was eight months past the expiration date. Delicacies and finickiness were both two things that she had left behind in the old world without a second thought, so merely _laying eyes upon_ an actual cooked, proper meal was enough for her to almost swear she was simply dreaming in her coma once again.

"If you're worried about us slipping something into your food forget about it. Negan wouldn't let us do anything like that- not to you at least." Sherry put in as she slowly approached the small girl, her gait cautious as if she were afraid of startling her before gently setting the aromatic dish down on the edge of the bed. She took notice in how the woman had been sure to leave her meal along the middle edge of the bed so that she didn't invade her comfort zone while still enabling the girl to reach the plate at her leisure. It made her feel a bit less skeptical she had to admit and she found her fondness for the kind, considerate woman growing.

"He wouldn't even let anyone but the doctor, himself and I into your room, not even the other girls, so I highly doubt he's going to try and poison you." Sherry put in as she returned to her original place by the edge of the curtain.

 _She had mentioned a Dr. Carson earlier...but what did she mean by other girls? Who were they?_ The small girl thought uneasily as she cautiously reached her hand forward so that she could draw the tantalizing platter nearer. _His_ _ **wives**_ _? Sherry said that_ _ **she**_ _was_ _one of them_ _after all._

"You and Negan seem to have some sort of different connection though, am I right? I mean he doesn't have the infirmary cleared out for just anyone." The woman continued, her question seemingly harmless enough though for some reason the question made her fidgeting worsen drastically. It was an odd dilemma, she knew. It really shouldn't matter if she had or had not known Negan previous to the new world- hell, it could even prove to be useful in a new and scary place such as this one. But she still wasn't quite sure if she wanted anyone to know of her previous relations with Negan, especially since he seemed to hold quite a bit of power now in this place. And also because he seemed perfectly quaint without her considering that he not only had one wife but _numerous_.

"Would you like me to go and get him?" She then asked, causing the girl's head to snap up so that she could stare back up to her with wide eyes. She was positive then that Sherry could sense her conflicted emotions when it came to Negan, thus answering her previous question without even vocalizing it. "He should be back from speaking to Simon any minute. He was planning to-"

However, before Sherry could finish her sentence a deep, all-too-familiar voice rang in her ears, cutting off the woman's, and the two turned to look in the direction of where it had come from.

"There'll be no need for that, _wife_. As you can see I have already taken it upon myself to make my grand fucking entrance."

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

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* * *

 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#4~  
**

* * *

 **Series:** The Walking Dead **  
Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing:** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note : **ugh, finally! this chapter is finished! i'm so sorry that this took so long for me to update- over a month! i had fallen sick two times between my last update of this story and now so i was often feeling too crappy to write anything. i also was just in general lacking ideas for this chapter. i have many plans for the future of this fanfiction, but those are all a bit later in the plot and i need some more for the more recent upcoming chapters. but i hope that the length makes up for the long wait. it's even longer than the previous chapter believe it or not. also this chapter is kind of like to show you how different lucille and negan are compared to back then and now, though also how inevitably similar they still are in a way. thanks for reading, please enjoy! p.s. sorry for any mistakes! i kind of rushed the proofread of this chapter because i was so tired of writing and wanted to get it out asap. so if you see any grammatical issues or anything of the sorts please let me know!  
 **Please: ** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve c:  
 **Thank you:** Anna Kathryn, Savannah's Angels, Guest User and aishiteru naru for your reviews! I was beyond excited to get them and to read them. I really, really appreciate the feedback as they are truly what inspire me the most to keep writing! And also thank you for 44+ follows and 23+ favorites! Thank you for just reading my story in general!

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 _"There's always a moment that separates the past from the future, and that moment is now."_  
 _-Aniekee Tochukwu Ezekiel_

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak  
**  
Awkward.

He guessed that was one way to properly describe how the atmosphere felt.

Uneasy, tense...awkward.

The three of them were seated around the table with Negan at the head, Alice to his left and her fidgeting daughter to his right whilst the silent ambiance numbed his ears. Ever since they had huddled themselves around the cherrywood dining table, his lover placing down the massive bowl of steaming spaghetti and him the platter of piping hot rolls upon the middle, an unnerving stillness had overtaken them. No one had made eye contact or any sort of gestures to the other, but it was almost as if they were all quietly ushering someone to make the first move and finally break the ice.

Glancing to his right, Negan took in the amusing scene of Alice's daughter sitting compactly in her seat. By the way her shoulders hunched inward and how she had her hands tucked deftly into her lap he could tell that she was trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Her head was down and her eyes staring blankly at her fingers in which he assumed were fidgeting out of sight. The girl just overall seemed very...uncomfortable.

Not that he really blamed her though. After all he was "the other man" in her mom's life while her dad was off risking his life for his country everyday. Either way though, no matter who he was, he was starting to feel his hunger begin to overwhelm his uneasiness.

So he then turned his attention to his left, his eyes dancing along the curvaceous figure of Alice as she simply stared- no _glared_ \- across the table at her daughter with this hard, unreadable expression across her face. He could only really guess that she was ushering her daughter to make the first move and to engage the conversation, though he could tell that they both knew that wasn't going to happen. After all Alice's kid hadn't said an entire thing this entire night. Hell, as a matter of fact she had only ever even said _three_ entire words to him since the time that he had first laid eyes on her. She wasn't a talker- if anything the damn kid seemed practically mute- but he wasn't going to let her weird silence keep him from eating some damn good spaghetti and getting some ass afterwards. Nothing had ever held him back from getting what he had wanted before, so why should he let some vertically challenged blonde change that all of the sudden?

"Well, while you two sit there eye-fucking one another, I'm gonna get me some god damn spaghetti. I'm fucking starving." Negan grunted abruptly, stretching his arm across the table and shifting in his seat so that he could scoop some of his much-awaited meal onto his plate. However, he had noticed that as soon as he had spoken the two of them had jolted and turn their eyes to him obscenely. It was almost as if his voice was something completely foreign and unwelcome at their dinner table. "What's with the death stares? Jesus fucking Christ, I just want some fucking spaghetti." He then chuckled, settling back down into his seat and starting to twist some of the sauce-laden noodles around his fork.

It continued to remain silent thereafter for at least another minute or two, that all-too-familiar quietude dancing around the trio tauntingly, until something that neither adult had ever thought would happen.

Alice's daughter _moved._

Well, of course she had _moved_ before, she was a human being after all- despite how unlikely he had assumed so due to her strange ways. What he had meant was that she had _broken the tension_ \- something he was sure that someone like her would never, _ever_ do. But no- he had seen it with his two very own eyes. He witnessed her stand up from her seat, reach across the table and begin to fill her plate with a small heap of spaghetti before setting back down without a single word. _She_ had cut through the thick, looming atmosphere and made the leap that neither of them thought that she would.

 _Maybe the kid isn't as big a pussy as I thought._

It was then that Negan also took notice in Alice's own movements as well as her facial expression. His "secret" lover had a pleased smile set across her face and her eyes were bright with a strange light whilst she began to load up her own plate with the cuisine she had prepared. It was a bit strange, he had to admit. The woman looked so utterly delighted and content that it nearly knocked him out of his seat- 'cause hell, that was usually a look he only saw when he had his tongue playing with her clit. It was a gross comparison he knew- especially when he had made it at the dinner table- but it was the only other time he had _genuinely_ seen such placid satisfaction upon Alice's cat-like face. He could have fucked her for three days straight and she _still_ wouldn't have that same expression set upon her features. It really caused him then to realize how much of an issue getting her daughter to open up must really be.

"Lucy." Alice cooed abruptly as she took her seat and set her filled plate back onto the place mat. Both adults watch with intense interest as the small girl's gaze rose testily from her inadequate mound of noodles and met her mother's with a questioning glint. The older woman simply gave her daughter a comforting smile before reaching over to place a hand on Negan's forearm, receiving a look of confusion from the man who had a mouthful of spaghetti. However, Alice paid no attention to his bewilderment and simply kept her eyes locked on her daughter. "So you finally met Negan the other night, yes?"

Negan, swallowing his mouthful wearily, let his eyes shift to the blonde on his right before unconsciously beginning to smirk at her response.

She had visibly stiffened, obviously uncomfortable with her mother bringing up the subject of her encounter with him a few nights ago again. It was amusing he had to admit, although he really didn't understand her bewilderment when it came to the situation. It was a rather innocent skirmish in which had occurred between the two of them- hell, they had barely even exchanged any type of words before she screamed and ran off. All he had done was stare at her for a few seconds like any normal fucking person would after they got rammed into by some strange dwarf. He hadn't even _said_ anything to her until she had already made her way back to her room via slipping and sliding like a deer on ice. So on that account he was sure that she hadn't even heard his greeting before he continued on his way down the stairs.

 _Weird fucking kid._ Negan thought to himself and lifted another forkful of spaghetti to his mouth.

"He told me that you were quite rude to him as well." Alice added abruptly, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as she let the top of her knife graze over her meal.

At the sound of this Lucy's head flew up almost immediately and she turned to stare at him with a brown gaze of pure mortification, her lower lip trembling in the slightest. He had to admit he was actually quite surprised that she finally initiated eye contact with him, however under the circumstances and as well as the look of absolute horror she was looking at him with, he was beginning to prefer her avoiding his gaze instead. It made him feel kind of bad that he was doing this to her- not just the whole sleeping with her mom thing and being guilted into condoning it, but also intruding into her own life in which she obviously wasn't content with him being in. He made her abhorrently uncomfortable, that much was evident on its own, but he was sure that she was battling just as many conflicting emotions inside of her as he was at the moment- if not more. She wanted her mother to be happy, of course. What kid wouldn't? But the sacrifices she has made and the bullshit she is putting up with is a bit much for someone her age to be grappling all at once. Someone like her should be out at wild parties, drinking and skinny dipping and testing the waters of love, not stuck at some obscenely awkward dinner with her mom and the guy she was cheating on her own father with. Even him- the guy getting free food and ass out of the situation- felt like it was one of the most unfair position's that anyone could be in. And that's really saying something.

"Hey, don't look at me with those damn bambi eyes, kid." Negan scoffed jokingly at Alice's daughter, trying his best to possibly enlighten the situation however he could. "You're the one who went all fucking National Geographic on me and started swinging your head around like a bull with its ballsack tied to his right leg."

Alice shot him an amused glance, though beneath it was a slight warning to tread a bit more lightly. They both knew what he had said was entertaining, but by the looks of it their now-tomato-faced counterpart wasn't so much in agreement. Negan had taken notice ever since the first time the two fatefully ran into each other that night that the girl was constantly riddled with embarrassment despite nearly any situation that she was in- something that he had to admit he wasn't used to after being around her mother so much. That woman sure as hell didn't have an insecure bone in her body. Not that he really minded; in the end it made the sex a lot more proactive. Plus he doubted that he was the type of guy that could restrain himself long enough to reassure a self-conscious woman to the point in which she could comfortably allow him to plunge into her balls-deep. Not to mention stuttering usually got on his _fucking_ nerves.

However, Negan found himself strangely enjoying Alice's daughter's reaction a lot more than her own, as Lucy had practically scooted to the opposite edge of her seat, her face beet red with embarrassment. It wasn't something he normally took interest in- the flustered states of women, or, well, girls in this case- but he had to admit that seeing the little Lucille so hot and bothered over a few innocent words sure had brought him a lot more pleasure than he knew it should.

"Relax, kid. I'm just tickling your balls." Negan laughed, watching as her face only grew redder at his choice of words. "I couldn't give less of shit about you trying to establish your dominance by head butting me in the groin. Message received loud and clear: "Stop being so goddamn loud while you're getting jiffy-stiffy with my mom. It creeps me the fuck out." As it should. I would be in quite the tizzy if you got off to your mom and I hacking the sack as much I d-"

"Negan!" Alice abruptly cut in, her cat-like eyes wide with fury and a tinge of embarrassment. He could tell that she wasn't all too keen on him addressing their sex life in front of her daughter, though he couldn't have really been bothered less by the fact. If she had the balls to talk to Lucy about fucking some dude behind her back and encouraging her to condone it, why not give her the gory details too?

"Alice, you heard the girl. Keep it mother fucking _down._ It _bothers_ her." The man taunted, pointing his fork at the small girl to his right who now had her entire face buried in her hands. "What kind of mother are you to make your child so damn uncomfortable at the dinner table?"

Negan took notice in how the woman did not seem to ointerested in his remark this time as her gaze wasn't even set in his direction. He followed her eyes to see that she was instead staring at her daughter who had drawn her knees up to her chest so that she could hide her already-covered face in them as well. And her sure as hell didn't miss the pained expression painted across her features. It almost made him feel a bit guilty; that distraught and stressed glitter in his lover's blue eyes. He had known how important this dinner had been to her in order to try and conjoin these two very different people in her life and to find some sort of solace in it. Of course he had been well aware of such a fact without her even _saying_ it aloud. He had just kind of assumed that was what it was about, even if he really didn't get the whole point of it.

He was her fuck buddy. What would it matter if he had a good relationship with her kid? He had never even laid eyes on the god damn girl until two days ago after sleeping with Alice for nearly two months, so why couldn't they just go on in that same manner? It had been working out well- or at least he thought that it was. It was efficient and it was effortless. Neither of them had to deal with the suffocating awkwardness whenever they were near the other or the contempt that the girl obviously held towards him. So could someone please explain to him why in the hell it was so vital that the two of them repaired this "relationship" that hadn't even been formed yet? Unless, of course, you consider her digging her head into his abdomen the "start of something new"- then, yeah, he _guessed_ they had a bit of a relationship. Otherwise they were strangers- and they both obviously preferred it that way.

Letting out a deep sigh at the situation that he was in, Negan abruptly pushed himself away from the table, his chair screeching against the hardwood floors. His eyes danced across the two startled women on either side of him, both staring at him with looks of confusion due to his sudden movement whilst he got to his feet. He then pushed his chair in harshly, being sure to elicit an equally obnoxious sound as he had moments ago, before he sauntered over so that he was standing directly in front of this _Lucille_.

Her head had already lifted from her position when he had made his very sudden and very rude interruption, so now he only had to establish some sort of eye contact. Even though she had been looking at him only seconds ago due to the sudden movements he had made, her gaze had immediately retreated from his own once he had begun to rise from the table. And he had to admit it kind of irked him.

Like, hell, he understood that it was a pretty awkward situation to be tricked into a dinner with the guy your mom is banging behind your dad's back, but couldn't she at least cut him some slack? He obviously didn't want to be here either and was just as uncomfortable with their positions as she was, so he honestly thought that she would be a bit more considerate towards him. But, nonetheless, he guessed not. So he figured he might as well poke a bit of fun at her in retaliation for her lack of regard towards him.

"Now that I have evened playing field out a bit and made you feel just as awkward as I had during our first encounter where you decided to go all Cristina Sanchez on me, I would like to formally mother fucking introduce myself." Negan piped up suddenly, leaning down so that he was eye level with the daughter of Alice. He watched as her fearful gaze reluctantly floated up to meet his, biting at her lip whilst he could practically feel the nervous waves rolling off of her. "You're Lucille, right?"

However, despite her visible discomfort, she did end up nodding to him in response, which was a surprise enough in itself even if it had been nearly unnoticeable. It was a soft response, one that you could barely even detect if you didn't pay extremely close attention to it. But he could tell that that is just how she was: soft.

"Hi, I'm Negan."

 _So soft._

 _So easy._

"And I do not appreciate having teenage girls ramming their head's into my appendix, even if it does entertain me quite a bit."

He watched as a confused expression began to spread across her face like wildfire. Her thick eyebrows were beginning to furrow in that way that made his stomach churn, her eyes were glassing over with this particular glint that made him unable to look away from them and she was _nibbling_ at her bottom lip in a manner that made him what to take it between his own teeth and mock her ministrations. He was fucking gross- a sicko- for thinking such things, he knew. But they were impossible to drown out of his mind. The man had never encountered someone that he could toy with so easily and it drove him nearly _insane_ when he got exactly what he was looking for with just a few mere words. Especially after being around such hardened and difficult women such as his own wife and her mother. He could poke fun at them all he wanted or try to embarrass them without getting any sort of reaction. But now here was Alice's daughter- this _Lucille_ \- fidgeting and blushing up a storm when he hadn't even had intended to do so. So someone _please_ tell him how he was supposed to resist.

"Also-" Negan began, flicking his tongue over his lower lip as the small girl's cheeks started to take on an even pinker shade. However he had been interrupted by the low, menacing voice that was his victim's mother's.

"Sit the hell **down**." She had growled, those cat-like eyes set aflame with a fire that he could practically feel singing him from across the table. Alice obviously wasn't all too keen on him picking on her daughter so relentlessly the night that she had been trying to situate them.

He gave the woman a simple shrug, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before withdrawing his close proximity of her daughter and taking his own seat once again. Negan was well aware that fighting against his little fuck-buddy was a tiresome task, so he decided against pursuing any further teasing of Lucille for now and to instead switch his attention to his plate of half-eaten spaghetti. He found himself eating primarily in silence aside from the light clanking of silverware against dishes for several minutes and found his mind simply wandering until Alice decided start up another conversation. He wasn't really too sure if he felt like listening to her at the moment despite being aware of his lack of choice whether or not to, however once he realized that the subject of the matter piqued his interest quite a bit he was all ears.

"How was school today, Lucy? Did you manage to talk to your counselor about your service learning hours?"

The question was simple one, one you'd expect any mother to really be asking their child at dinner in the evening. It was something his own mom had always brought up herself when it came to him even when she simply got the same answer from him everyday.

 _"Shitty."_ He would mutter, paying little to no attention to her concern as to why it was so. He'd simply say, _"It just was."_ and that was that. Kids didn't really enjoy talking about school, he knew. And not just because he was one of them when he was younger. He was surrounded by high schoolers all day and whenever he managed to pick up on any of their conversations he was never surprised to find that they very rarely ever had to do with their education. And if it ever miraculously was it was about how much they hated it and hated having to come to "this shit hole" everyday. So, of course, when Alice's daughter replied with a mere shake of her head to her mother's question it really didn't come as much of a shock. However, there was one _tiny_ detail that was a bit of a bombshell for him.

"How come she's worrying about god damn service learning hours? Thought that bullshit was for graduating seniors?" Negan queried, feeling a bit of confusion prodding within him. "And considering she looks like she's still in the fourth grade I am gonna take a wild guess and say that she's probably still a fucking freshmen, yeah?"

Alice shot him an amused look with raised eyebrows and shook her head and said, "Nope, she's seventeen. Her birthday is actually in a few months, believe it or not."

Negan, feeling genuine astonishment welling up within him, looked back and forth from Alice and her daughter a few times before he opens his mouth again to speak, "You? The Tiny Terror? You're gonna be graduating this year?"

He took notice in how Lucille's eyebrows furrowed in defiance at his words, though she simply remained silent and gave him yet again another nod in response to his question. This kid really didn't seem too keen on talking. The fact that she hadn't spoken a word this entire evening also had failed to slip his mind. Though either way- silence or not- he found this revelation hilarious.

"Well, I'll be mother fucking god damned! You really aren't just standing on your parents' toes to get onto the big kid rides, are you? You're actually gonna need them ass-paining service learning hours, aren't ya?" The man bellowed, unable to hold back a deep bout of laughter that overtook him like a crashing wave. It was just too funny to him- absolutely fucking hilarious. This poor kid who probably wasn't even five feet tall would soon be out in the real world paying taxes, going to college and getting jury duty. He knew it was a stupid thing to think, but he couldn't help but to be entertained by it.

However, when he finally managed to calm himself down and cease his thunderous laughter, he was a bit taken aback by the seriousness in Alice's gaze. Her expression that was searing into her very own child was one that Negan knew far too well himself. That igniting fire within it was one that he was sure was set aflame by no one other than him, so seeing it blaze so ferociously in the direction of a girl so small and innocent made him realize that this probably wasn't a joking matter.

"Fuck, kid. I get that same look when I tell her I don't wanna stay the night. I highly recommend that you put on your listening ears and play close attention to the next shit she says." Negan whispered to Lucille, leaning over slightly so that he could keep his voice lower and not risk Alice picking up on what he was saying too easily. The small girl's gaze shifted to him for a moment, fear and worry visible in its depths before she simply turned away from him so that she could stare down into her lap.

But what was much more to his own surprise was that Alice had completely ignored his comment and instead turned to her daughter and said, "Yes, she does need them. In fact we have been talking about this since the middle of her Sophomore year, but _someone_ has been procrastinating and shooing me away with a simple nod of her head and has now waited until the last minute when sign-ups for learning hours are now _full._ "

It was then that Negan began to notice Lucy biting at her lip and her big brown eyes filling with tears, fidgeting relentlessly as if she was viciously trying to hold them back and was slowly losing the battle with herself. And _fuck,_ why did that break his heart?

Alice had paid little to no attention to her daughter's state it seemed as she continued to simply rant about how irresponsible and screwed she was now that she had waited so long.

"Your father would be so disappointed in you, Lucille. After all he does for you and how hard he works so that you can have a good future and you act like this?"

 _Okay, hold the fuck up._

"And here you are acting like you would be fine with simply throwing it away because you're too lazy to go to the counseling office and sign a fucking paper. You need to take this seriously. This is your future we're talking about. What would your father think?"

Even _he_ knew that that was a bit fucking hypocritical and harsh.

Considering that her husband had not only traveled overseas and put his life on the on the line for their daughter, but also for _Alice_ herself whom of which was cheating on him and she had the audacity to say something like that to the kid who was covering for her? He knew that this woman could be a savage bitch at times, but Jesus fucking Christ, that's just _uncalled_ for.

Negan looked to Lucille and saw that the small girl was now trembling all over and had tears running down her baby-like cheeks. Her lower lip was trembling violently, the whites of her eyes were fading to a pale red and the tip of that tiny button nose of hers was beginning to match. His heart- his cold, dead heart- was breaking at the sight.

"And don't even get me started on-"

"Look, look Alice- chill the _fuck_ out." Negan cut in abruptly, doing his best to keep his voice calm despite wanting to jump down her throat the same way that she was her own daughter's. "The girl's practically in fucking tears over a couple unchanged diapers and some shitty stories at a nursing home for Christ's sake. Fuck, if she really needs them that bad I'll find her something to do for the baseball team to get her hours, alright? She can hang their jockstraps out to dry and reposition my balls if they get too god damned sweaty if so be it. But fuck, woman, just don't make her cry. You never make a cute little face like that cry. That even breaks _my_ shit-stained heart."

There was complete silence after he spoke. The two women in front of him simply stared back at him with equally wide and astonished eyes whilst their mouths gaped in awe. Maybe it was the fact that he had intervened in a rather private and family-oriented subject or maybe it was that he had actually stood up for this poor girl who had been teasing incessantly the entire night, but either way they were dumbfounded. Sadly, despite her overwhelming shock due to Negan's propositional outburst, Alice didn't remain silent for long.

"Really? You could make that happen?" She asked, her voice laced with absolute incredulity.

Negan took a drink of his beer simply and shrugged as if it were nothing.

"It really isn't that hard. Our last "manager" graduated in May and no poor mother fucker's been stupid enough to take up the job since." He informed her casually. "I don't really blame them, though. It's a shittier position than wiping a colonoscopy patient's ass- and that's _really_ fucking shitty." Negan then pauses, a smirk on his face as he looks to Lucille and gives her a wink before saying, "But you're _shit_ outta luck at the moment, aren't ya, Lucille?"

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

If her heart had began to beat faster each time that Negan's name had filtered through her ears as they had this past day, then now she was sure that she would soon fall into cardiac arrest upon hearing his _voice_ pass through them.

She knew it was his; in fact, she knew it all too well in a matter that nearly caused her to tremble in fear. For it was a voice that had haunted her dreams and plagued her thoughts for more than three years now. Those memories of the deep reverberations that would cause chills to run down her spine, that terrifyingly familiar taunting pitch… She recalled it so well that she began to think that maybe she knew it was him before he spoke- almost as if she could detect his nearness before he even made himself known. Maybe it was something like a sixth sense. However, as she repeated the sound of his voice over and over again in her head, nearly recoiling as each syllable he spoke lingered in the air like cigarette smoke, she found herself becoming much more content with only possessing five.

 _He's supposed to be **dead**._

She could even see how Sherry stiffened at the sound of it as well. The beautiful woman who was once so nonchalant and cheery was now taking on the appearance of a sheet of ice; her entire body frozen where it stood and her skin took on a pearly-pale gleam in which hinted at how flushed she was. Her lips had formed into a straight, taut line that confirmed their mutual uneasiness at the sound of Negan's- but her eyes. It was Sherry's eyes that truly chilled her to the bone.

They were widened to moons; her pupils so dilated they nearly drowned out the dark brown irises that once shone so brightly at the small girl. Sherry's gaze seemed to glaze over with an unreadable look- maybe horror- though it was quite conflicted, and the stare only seemed to grow all the more prominent as his steps grew closer and closer.

They were so heavy- so fierce- that it was almost as if an elephant was making its way past all of the cots and curtains and towards the two women seated at the very last one. Every time his heel hit the floor she had to refrain from flinching. Every time the sound of his insistent whistling stung her eardrums she had to force herself to remain upright. All she wanted to do was shrink back into the sheets, pull them over her head and slip back into unconsciousness in order to shield herself from his presence. She didn't think she could look at him after all of this time- after knowing who he was now. After all the things he could have possibly done…

He was no longer the same Negan that she kissed in her dreams at night.

He was…

It was then that he became visible to the two women who were equally dreading his arrival; a wide, blood-chilling smirk set broad upon his features and some bat with a type of slightly-stained metal wrapped around it in his grasp.

 _Maybe chicken wire?_ She thought to herself, trying to shift her attention to anything but Negan's eyes which bore directly into her upon his entrance. However, she knew that it would be impossible.

All her own cocoa-brown gaze could do was sear right back into the man's that she swore she once loved. She could only rake them continuously over his features, taking in the salt-and-pepper scruff that he adorned, the slight wrinkles that formed in the corners of his eyes as he grinned toothily at her, the way he stood so tall and menacing with a black leather jacket and matching jeans. The girl couldn't help but let it all soak into her mind, forcibly igniting countless memories in which she had forced herself to suppress so long ago.

 _The way his large, warm hands felt against her skin; their callous texture turning her own velvety one into a supple blaze of blush upon the merest touch._

This was no longer the same Negan.

 _The way his short, stubbly beard would prick at her skin and send shivers down her spine whenever his lips would graze her own._

This is the man who preyed on her family and friends as if they were wild game.

 _The way his huge, towering frame would hover over her as his hands slid up her dress and pressed her back down onto the couch, ghosting his touch teasingly over the shape of her breasts._

This is the man who…

 _ **"I fucking love you."**_

...is a monster.

"Sherry." Negan spoke up suddenly, his gruff tone causing both women to nearly jump out of their skin. "I'd like some fucking privacy with my... _friend_...here, if you wouldn't mind."

The girl nearly recoiled at the way that the word _"friend"_ rolled off of his tongue icily. It was supposed to sting, she knew. It was supposed to catch both her own and Sherry's attention and make their skin crawl- something that he seemed keen on doing nowadays when she thought back to his eerie entrance only moments ago.

He enjoyed making people tremble in fear.

Her eyes danced away from Negan's then and onto the tense frame of Sherry, who seemed to glower fiercely in the man's directions. Strangely enough, however, the smirking man only seemed to enjoy her ferocity all the more so.

"Oh, Sherry, sweetheart…" He cooed and stepped closer to the fuming woman so that he could place an index finger beneath her chin and look directly into her eyes. "Are we a little jealous that your beloved, doting husband is giving his attention to another lady?"

She could see how Sherry's jaw muscle then began to twitch uncontrollably at the sound of Negan's words, though she spoke not one of her own. It almost as if she was holding back a string of obscenities that she would love to wrap around his neck like a noose before kicking the chair out from underneath his feet. She seemed so...appalled.

 _This woman is_ _Negan's_ _...wife. Why is she looking at him with such disdain?_

"Don't worry that pretty little fucking head of yours, baby." He pressed on, bringing his thumb up to hold the woman's face as well so that he could squeeze the skin on her chin lightly. "You know that I'll be coming to visit you later, right? Don't I always?"

But it was then that she truly felt her skin begin to crawl though.

Negan then leaned down slightly, his fingers still grasping at Sherry's chin, before he let his lips linger dangerously close to them and whispering, "You've just gotta be patient, _wife_." And then, he sealed his lips with hers into an open-mouthed kiss.

There was a feeling in her chest at the sight of it that nearly sent her back into a coma due to the pain.

It was like some monstrous being with long, curling talons was grasping at her heart and squeezing every ounce of feeling from her being relentlessly. She could feel as the claws tore their way through the cartilage, slicing open her chambers and drowning out the oxygen from her lungs until it finally yanked the throbbing organ from her very center and threw it carelessly to the ground. She could see it laying there upon the black-and-white tile too. It was right beside Negan's and Sherry's feet, pulsing and gushing out the blood that was once rushing through her veins at lightning speed due to the sound of his voice. It was the heart that would break each time her mind forcefully conjured up any memory of him and forced her to listen to his voice or breathe in his scent or look into his eyes. It was the heart that he once held in his hands so gently- with so much care and love. And now it…

Is it jealousy?

No, it couldn't be.

There is no reason to be jealous. Why would she ever get jealous of the person she loved and trusted wanting someone else? Why would she ever beat herself up and long for such disgusting attention that is now being directed at someone other than whom he had swore it to? What is the logic in that? Why would she get jealous of such a nasty, degrading, lying heart lusting after someone else other than who he had promised it? Why? That makes no sense.

But disappointment? Oh, god, disappointment. Now that's the word that suits that filthy heart. Why would she ever want that heart? Why would she want that heart that hurts, kills and robs the innocent of their happiness? It was not the same heart that she had longed for all these years. And she guessed that was why her own was now splayed across the floor, throbbing and sputtering blood at the feet of a ghost.

She was disappointed in who he had become.

Or more so...in who he no longer was.

But could she really be upset with him? She was very far from who she used to be as well…

After all this world turns people into…

...monsters.

"You fucking look...just like you did before."

The sound of his voice suddenly snapped her back into reality, causing her to look around the room in bewilderment and she+ took notice that it was now only her and Negan in the infirmary. Sherry must have made her exit while she was busy sorting out her feelings and conflictions over the man who was beginning to turn her world upside down once again.

The girl's eyes narrowed slightly as he began to take a few steps towards her to close the distance between them, an unreadable expression clouding his face. He surely didn't look the same as he had when Sherry was still present, nor did his voice sound the same. His entire demeanor was far softer now as he made his way to her, almost as if he was approaching a wild animal. His hardened, taunting eyes were now glazed with some sort of emotion that she was forcing herself to not identify in fear that it would wrench her heart from her chest once again. His mouth had fallen from that cocky, upturned smirk and was now formed into a straight, concerned line whilst his eyebrows lowered from that amused position high on his forehead and into a furrowed, solicitous position. She took even more notice that he had placed his strange weapon against the wall before starting for her. His fingers were rubbing gently against one another with anticipation.

 _Stay away…_

Each step was painful.

 _Stay away..._

They were nearly inaudible- so soft and so different than they were before.

 _Stay away..._

She wished they weren't real.

 _Stay away…_

"Stop!" She choked out abruptly, pulling the sheets closer to her body as if they could hide her from his domineering gaze. Her voice was weak and raspy from its lack of use over the past few months, but it was somehow so ferocious and pain-filled in that moment that she was sure that it would be enough to halt Negan from continuing his set path towards her.

And, thankfully, it was.

She saw how the man had indeed stopped himself when he was less than a foot away from her bedside now, though it was the look of pure abhorrence and agony blazing within his eyes that truly caught her attention. It was as if the emotions churning beneath his gaze were enough to completely draw her mind away from his nearness and instead to what he was feeling.

 _What_ _ **is**_ _he feeling?_

Negan's jaw was now locked and tense, the muscles within it jumping in a savage manner that showed just how much he was holding back from disregarding her outburst. His fists had clenched tightly at his side as well, causing his knuckles to nearly turn white due to the violent manner in which he gripped himself. His eyes had also taken on a narrowed fashion identical to her own, mirroring both of their frustrations evidently.

However- much to her own annoyance- even though her words had caused him to cease his physical encroachment on her, his verbal one was just beginning.

"You have made quite the _interesting_ group of friends, _Lucille_." Negan remarked, causing her to notice how that air in which he held when he had first entered the infirmary was beginning to return, thus replacing the one of his previous confliction. There was only arrogance there now. "But!" He pressed, seemingly to draw her attention to his rousing counterargument, "I guess you could say the fucking same for me, huh?"

She badly wanted to remark that he was damn right and question him all about his choices on whom he was surviving with, but for some reason she wasn't able to get any words out. It was almost as if she had gone mute at the sight of him and at his sudden nearness- like a catalyst to her terrified silence.

It could have been due to the fact that she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing her voice after what he had just done before her very own eyes. She felt immense betrayal the moment his eyes fell upon the tall, beautiful woman- who wouldn't? She could understand moving on after she would be considerably presumed dead after they failed to reconnect in this new world, though she could suffice little justification for such a public display of... _affection_. Especially when she had assumed that it would be apparent he still held her heart in his hands. Of course Negan could have also surmised that she had found a new lover herself and could be quite peeved about such a thing, thus using Sherry as a sort of retaliation against her. After all he had always been quite the jealous bastard- especially when it came to her. She knew, though, that the hypothesis was a long shot for someone with a mindset like his. Negan is a not-so-sentimental guy living a now not-so-sentimental world, so could his heart really become so tender over the reappearance of a girl whom he had only told that he loved once? She doubted it. He had most likely been so intimate with Sherry in front of her in order to establish some sort dominance and to prove a lack of _savoir faire_. He had always been more of a possessive and dominant lover than he was a hearts and candy one, but he was merely a dominant and possessive person as a _whole_. And even though she had always admired such a thing and was even _allured_ by it, she could only find herself a bit distraught that he probably felt little or nothing that he had in the world before. She was so naive to be thinking this way despite her situation, she knew, but she sure as hell was not going to let her feelings be evident to him. Showing this type of weakness to a man in his position- or any type of weakness _at all_ \- could prove to be lethal nowadays. No matter what she felt...she would meet him head-on.

Though, another thought began to surmise within her that made _slightly_ more sense.

Maybe she was also so silent _due_ to his position- not what he had done to establish it. Could it be because she was afraid of making him angry and fearing how he would retaliate to such a snide retort? She could see clearly how ruthless he had become, so what would restrain him from acting with such a severity towards her? After all he had pursued her friends like a starved fox and god knows who else with a relentless bloodlust. She could only imagine what he did to all of her-

"My friends." She whispered abruptly, her eyes widening to chocolate moons as the realization set it.  
 _  
_What had happened to them after she had unsuccessfully retrieved a rescue party?

Had this new and monstrous Negan killed every person who meant anything to her anymore?

 _Michonne, Abraham, Rosita…_

Could he really have stolen from her the very people who had saved not only her body, but her mind and soul?

 _Glenn, Rick, Maggie…_

Could this man that she loved so fiercely…

 _Carl._

...have taken away all that she had left?

"Ah, your good ole friends." Negan cooed, his toothy grin widening by the second, "Quite the _enrapturing_ group my little Lucille has found herself all tangled up in." It was then that he began to walk towards her again, his loud boots echoing eerily against the walls as she glowered up at him. She knew that he was reading her like book as the man was always able to- her emotions, her tendencies, her thoughts- but in the moment she couldn't have cared less. He could read every word laced within her veins from the very moment she was born to this exact second and she could still only be concerned with one thing.

"What happened to them?" She whispered, doing her best to keep her voice from trembling and the tears behind her eyes from spilling out. "Where are they?"

"Tch, tch, tch." Negan resonated, nearly causing her to flinch each time his tongue met the back of his teeth. His eyes then traveled absently down to the plate of food Sherry had brought her and his eyebrows had begun to raise in amusement at the sight, his grin beginning to reach to the very edges of his cheeks. Though she was quite unsure why. It was just a simple meal, why did it cause him to smile so sadistically?

"So many questions, Lucy." The man sighed and his large hand reached down so that he could grasp the delicious-smelling dish, his eyes never leaving hers. They seemed so different from before- so much darker and so much more ominous. Any bit of the old Negan that could have possibly been left behind was invisible to her, though she doubted that there was much or any to be hidden.

 _He isn't Negan._ She told herself silently, watching with a hardened gaze as this "strange man" situated himself on the side of her bed with the plate of roast chicken upon his lap. She flinched. His presence- his nearness- it burned her like a flame. And his smile, oh god, that smile… Such a crooked smile began dance upon his lips as she deliberately shifted her legs further from him, this inevitable fear bubbling within her, warning that if they touched she would be injured in some sort.

 _He is not_ _ **him**_ _._

 _He is not_ _ **Negan**_ _._

"How rude. You haven't touched your fucking dinner, _sweetheart_." Negan chided, taking the fork between his fingers and twirling it around before he took one of the green beans unto it. He then leaned forward slightly and brought the food up to her lips, his own mouth forming into a faint "O" as if he were tending to an infant whilst he gently prodded for her to take a bite.

 _No,_ _ **no.**_

 _Stay_ _ **away**_ _._

"Luuuciiille...You really shouldn't waste food nowadays."" The man cooed, his tongue flicking out over his lower lip deliciously as she flinched away from his offering. She could feel the heat from his skin that lingered dangerously close and in that moment she could only wish that she had the ability to disappear. She could _smell_ him. His scent. How could it possibly be the same? It is identical to how it was before. How? How could he possibly still bear some resemblance to _him_? He wasn't Negan. He wasn't _him._ She could resist…

But just when she thought his scent alone was enough to drive her very soul from her body, he managed to prove her terribly wrong.

His thumb had found its way up the handle of the fork, twisting the way up the cool chrome, and high enough to stroke the raw skin of her lower lip- thus initiating the first physical contact between them in nearly two years. Or at least the first contact that she was conscious for.

Her eyes widened at the touch, boring her gaze into his face as she felt her cheeks beginning to heat up. However, his own line of sight was not situated on hers and was instead focused upon the lips in which he had been coaxing only moments before. She noticed how his pupils had seemingly dilated numerous centimeters, nearly causing his eyes to develop into a perpetual onyx as a whole and make him take on the appearance of some sort of demonic figure. She could only fight back laughter at the irony.

This man after all _was_ a demon.

"You really are fucking here, huh?"

Negan's voice had fallen hoarse once again as he spoke. It was almost as if he was fighting a losing battle at this point. Maybe he was also unsure of his own feelings towards this person whom he had become so close to so long ago and was forcing himself to refrain from any special treatment due to their affiliations. Maybe she was not the only one so conflicted at the moment.

"I am." She replied dryly, watching as his jaw seemed to lock when her mouth moved against his thumb. "And I would like to know why."

It was then that his eyes finally tore away from her mouth and met her own, that same look of inner turmoil bubbling within their dark depths. The man seemed to hesitate for a moment before he reluctantly drew his hand away from her mouth, fork and all, and lifted the green bean to his own lips to take it in a single bite. His chews were loud and harsh; teeth grinding together in an obnoxious manner that nearly caused her to flinch each time the friction became audible.

She had angered him.

"Why?" He laughed in a sardonic fashion, his mouth seemingly fighting to remain in an upturned position. "Jesus fuck, you must have really gotten clocked hard if you're asking me that."

Her eyes narrowed at his sneering wit, unable to contain the anger that his darkly-humored demeanor caused to swell within her. She could tell he was upset that she didn't seem too keen on being reunited with him- which she wasn't too sure as to why. He had seemed perfectly content sucking face with Sherry in her very presence, so she could only imagine how intimate things got behind closed doors. Which is what caused her the most confusion.

He had all the positive attention in the world it seemed, so why pine after hers so fiercely?

"You're still quite good at dodging questions, I see." She told him with little emotion, watching as his eyebrows lifted high up on his forehead, amused.

"Damn." Negan breathed, that haunting toothy grin beginning to spread across his lips as he stabbed the fork into the tender chicken breast. "You may look the fucking same, but you really have become a mouthy little son of a bitch, huh? You used to blush just from me mentioning my ballsack and now you're trying to talk to me like I am some kind of petty little shit that you've be palling around with since the end of the world. Oh, _sweetheart_..."

His voice had changed.

It did not lack either of the emotions that she had taken notice of only moments ago- the anger and the amusement. Oh, god, no. It did not lack either of them at all.

In fact it practically _seethed_ the two. His voice _bled_ them.

It was as if he had adopted them and made them into his own sort of twisted personal tone, one that no one but _he_ could master. Because she was certain that in all of her years and possibly the very few to come that she had never and _would_ never meet someone who could take two vastly different emotions and combine them into something so sinister, so blood-chilling…so… _Negan_.

"You really have no fucking idea who you are dealing with, do you?"

 _Oh, god._

"Lucille, Lucille..." He cooed darkly, eyes never leaving hers as his hand began to grip the porcelain of the plate so tightly that she was sure that it would break within his grasp.

 _Oh, god._

"My sweet, sweet Lucille..."

 _Oh,_ _ **god**_ _._

"You are terribly fucking mistaken."

 _ **'Crash!'**_

In the smallest of moments between the time that spoken her name so softly and the time that he had thrown the plate against the wall, she knew that she had awoken something mortifying within him. Something so absolutely dark and ruthless that she wished that she had never spoke at all.

 _ **Oh, god.**_

As soon as the pristine china and the delicious meal met the faded beige paint, he had jumped up from the bed only to bend down to her level and fasten his thumb and pointer finger harshly against the skin of her chin so that he could force her to look at him. He was uncomfortably close, his face mere inches from hers as his blood-chilling black gaze bore deep into her soul. She could feel his hot breath, make out every line and slight wrinkle upon his face, detect every coarse hair within his beard…

He looked so similar to what he had so long ago. So intimidating and so fierce. But there was something that was there now that wasn't before.

"I am not the same fucking man that you remember, _Luc_ _ille._ " He growled, edging all the more closely so that she could practically feel the bristles of his beard against her skin.

 _Or had it been there all this time?_

 _Lurking and hiding beneath this man's surface?_

"I am far from the fucking person that you have kept alive inside of those innocent little memories of yours." His face had then began to shift slightly, as had his hand that had taken upon itself to lock her jaw into place. Negan's head had moved so that it had settled itself into the crook of her slender neck and his hand had fastened itself so that it was on the adjacent side, his thumb softly stroking the skin beneath it. The man's lips were ghosting over her so lightly that she could just barely feel the slight prickle from his stubble, but he may as well have been running his tongue along her pulse then and there. His nearness- this complete and utter closeness that he was forcing upon her…

 _Had it simply become more pronounced in this new world?_

"But Lucille, do you know what _I_ remember the most about _you_?"

Negan's breath was hot against her skin as he spoke in that low, husky tone that sent goosebumps all along her entire body. She could feel his grip was tightening on her neck and his lips were shifting themselves closer so that they nearly made the contact that she had been longing for but refused to admit to. The man's other hand was gripping the iron-wrought headboard of the cot behind her, causing his massive body to hover hers in a way that caused her mind to spin with memories. He was practically trapping her there and forcing her to engage in such closeness with him.

 _Yes, it was always there. It had always been something that Negan had adorned, though it was simply not so vicious as it was now._

"The fact that you are _mine_."

 **His possessiveness.  
**

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	5. Chapter 5

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 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#5~  
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 **Series:** The Walking Dead **  
Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing:** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note : **wow, oh my god. i am so, so sorry for the massively delayed update on this story- not to mention it is rather short compared to that last few. nor does it really progress the plot too much. this is more just something for me to post to show that this story is in fact still active and being updated considering it has been about a month and a half since i had posted. i hadn't even started on this chapter until about a week or so ago actually, as i had just been immensely busy with testing and homework and such (as well as suffering from major writers block!) but alas i am now on my spring break so i should hopefully be able to post at least a chapter or two within the next week. either way thank you all for the support i have received for this story! it's a great feeling to see so many favorites and follows and such lovely reviews.  
 **Please: ** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve c:  
 **Thank you:** Thank you both Guest Users, WickedlyMinx and Charlene Clark for your reviews! It really makes my heart skip a beat when I get a notification for someone reviewing this story. I really, really appreciate the feedback as they are truly what inspire me the most to keep writing! And also thank you for 76+ follows and 44+ favorites!I I can't believe "Dog Teeth" has come as far as it has in the few months it has been posted. I really never expected to get more than like 25 follows, in all honesty. So thank you all so much for all the support :).

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 _"So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was substance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream." "_  
 _  
-_ _Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes_

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

" _The fact that you are **mine**."_

The words had fallen from his lips like a liquid venom, dripping down those masculine fang-like teeth and onto her skin before seething itself deep inside. Even though he couldn't feel what she felt, Negan was positive that the words in which he had spoken had had some sort of physical effect on her.

 _ **Mine.**_

From the way her skin had fallen deathly cold to how her chocolate brown eyes had paled to a slight cocoa, he was able to pick up on each of her reactions that he had caused.

 _ **His Lucille.**_

The man had to admit that he was wholly reveling in each of her responses to everything and everyone by now. Hell, how could he not? He had presumed her long dead and gone months upon years ago just to give himself some sort of peace. But having her here now? So close, so personal and so within his complete and utter grasp? How could any god or simple being expect him to not bathe in every ounce of glory that she emitted?

He was starved for it- abso-fucking-lutely _depraved_ of anything that she could possibly give.

A gasp, a tear, a smile, a cry- anything. Anything to satiate his inundating thirst for _her_.

So he had begun to realize that as soon as she had taken part in falling stone to his very own existence that he would have to act quick to keep her from once again becoming a mere memory as she had been for so long now.

He would tease her, infuriate and scare her if need be- just dear fucking god, anything to assure him that she was _there._

That he wasn't hallucinating or dreaming like he had before.

Especially since Negan was able to tell by the look on her face once he had entered the room that she was absolutely and irrevocably terrified by his presence, he knew that getting even more reactions and responses from her could not be all too complicated. Therefore he would simply have to do what he does best to make sure she did not fade away: piss people off.

Or, more specifically, piss his Lucille off.

Taking in a sudden deep breath of this being that had haunted his mind for hours that could never be counted, a wave of euphoria overtook him far more violently than he had originally anticipated.

Her scent...how the mother fuck could it possibly be the same?

The soft vanilla, the warm sugar, the fresh rain…the _Lucille_.

The Lucille that would sit with him in the cargo bed of his red Ford pick-up truck, cross-legged and barefoot in a white linen sundress, with the long pale waves of her hair falling past her hips as the sound of her laugh and crickets filled his ears.

The Lucille whom was covered in head-to-toe with the birthday cake that he had bought her only an hour before, the corner's of her eyes crinkling ever so slightly as her sweet laugh progressed throughout her entire house.

The Lucille who had fallen to her knees and cried relentlessly when he had accidentally hit a deer late at night whilst they were both singing along to "Take Another Little Piece of My Heart" on some dark, backwoods road.

The Lucille that warmed up his cold, dead bastard heart and actually gave him some sort of actual fucking morals.

The Lucille who…

Negan's head had slowly begun to raise from its place within the crook of her neck, his breathing heavy and labored whilst he forced himself to prepare to meet her eyes. His heart pounded in his chest, his skin grew cool and clammy…but he knew what he had to do. He knew how he had to act. He knew the monster he had to continue to be.

 _"...The fact that you are **mine**_."

"And _that_ , my dearest Lucille..." Negan purred, a smirk dancing across his lips as he did everything he possibly could to not burst into actual fucking tears, "is why you are mother fucking here."

The man watched as a look of confusion fell over the beautifully elfin face in which he had imagined was that of every woman that he had bedded since she'd claimed his heart. Those thick, gorgeous eyebrows of his Lucille were furrowing in that adorable manner they always had before whenever she was uncertain of something. And her eyes? Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Her eyes, her glowing brown pools, they were glistening with an identical disarray that he longed to devour like a fiend.

She- _his_ Lucille- he wanted to eat her whole.

"Shit, you really haven't pieced a lot of this together have you?" Negan chuckled, his hand gently snaking its way up to the place that his face was moments ago before beginning to caress the baby-soft skin there. "Oh, well fuck me sideways! Lu- _cille_! I am most mother fucking offended that _you_ of all people aren't aware of my power these days!"

"No...I-I...I was injured. I had a concussion- I..."

And there they were.

Not only those incredibly quenching flinches from his touch, but also those god damn perfect _words_ falling from those unbelievably kissable lips.

Just what he wanted.

"Fuck! You even still _sound_ the same! I'm getting hard just listening to you." Negan laughed, basking in those all-too-familiar beet-red cheeks shining back at him whilst her eyes forcefully diverted themselves from his own. He could barely believe it. There she was: his bashful, beautiful Lucille, driving him insane and having absolutely no knowledge of it- just like before.

His breathtaking, innocent, mother fucking _perfe-_

 **No.**

 _Get a fucking grip._

Negan knew that if he kept allowing himself to take such luxurious walks down memory lane he'd eventually end up taking a wrong turn at Shit Creek and be up to his neck in problems.

However, there was something also that required some addressing here as well that had recently been brought to light. And hopefully he could use that to divert himself from his original train of thought.

"But a concussion, Lucille?" Negan queried, his thumb stroking at a small cut near the base of her throat. "Please tell me you got it from at least beating the hell out of someone."

He felt her swallow hard against his touch, nearly causing him to wrap his entire hand around her throat in a desperate attempt to feel even more of the skin that he swore had been forced from his memory long ago. This girl- _his_ girl- _his_ Lucille _…_

He knew she had never been completely erased.

Negan had spent the first months of the end primarily alone. Sulking, screaming…broken. He was in a sort of mourning if that's what you wanted to call it. The loss of _her_ was enough for him to stick the barrel of his gun into his mouth more times than he could even remember, practically begging himself each time to pull the fucking trigger. Because the thought of a world _without_ her- even if it were crawling with undead mother fuckers, as long as it had _her_ in it- was a world he did not want to be part of. It was a dark, pathetic time in his life. When he thought back on it, it nearly made him cringe and use his trusty Lucille on himself due to how pitiful it was.

He was _really_ going to off himself over "some girl" that he hadn't even fucked in this world in which he was destined to become a _god._ In a world where he was a gym teacher- a mother fucking high school baseball coach- is the world that he'd had rather lived in than this one where he had been bestowed his own _kingdom,_ all because "some girl" who wasn't even 5'0 tall was in it. For Christ's fucking sake, he had laid on a forest floor, covered in blood and his own sweat and tears for god damn near two days, just waiting for some undead prick to devour him and "rejoin him with his love" when Simon had stumbled across him. It surprised him more than anything- the encounter that is-, he had to admit. Primarily because it was almost as if he had forgotten that other living, breathing beings still existed. His mind had been so solely focused on the one that he'd assumed forever gone that he hadn't even taken it upon himself to ponder about those who weren't. And it was when that realization took over- the one in which had now inescapably plagued this new world- that he had began to develop into the monstrosity that he was today.

From then on Negan had been sure to drain every essence of her being from his body once he had begun to fixate on his rise to power in this new world. He had done everything to erode her from his mind, his heart, his _everything_ that anyone could have possibly thought of _._ However, despite all the man's efforts, he would consistently fail. Even when he had started his ascend to power, he would have his occasional moments in which he had what he liked to call a "pussy fit", where he'd break down and begin to question if he could really do this without her. So after he had unsuccessfully quarreled with himself and the ghost of _her_ for countless days upon months he came to the conclusion that if he could not erase her from his being, he would simply embrace her. He would find a way to remedy his loss. One way or another, no matter what, he would. But how?

That had always been the biggest issue since he'd come to such a revelation.

 ** _How?_**

Negan would ponder on it for hours upon hours, scouring his own mind in countless desperate attempts in search of ways to keep her with him without weakening him at the same time. And after incessantly falling short of an advantageous resolution he had begun to convince himself that what he was trying to do was simply impossible.

 _Her_ without _her..._ could it ever really work?

He had doubted it. Oh, fuck, he had really doubted it for as long as he had tried to make do with it. After all of the reasoning and philosophies and reasoning and coming up shorthanded...who could have ever thought that the solution to his Lucille problem would revelate itself so spontaneously?

It was the day that he had been challenged by some fuck in their group for the spot of "supreme" that he had come to find his permanent fix for his addiction. It was the first time that Negan had used _her_ on anyone that was still alive- It was when he for the first time in months he had felt the tension of her loss lift from his shoulders. It was when he replaced her in the way that most would think is absolutely fucking abhorrent and just downright psychotic- but for him, it was just right.

He had delved her being into something powerful- something that could assist him in rise to superiority rather than cripple him. Having a weakness, he knew, was something that he would have to erase in order to maintain such a rank that he was striving for and to keep others from intruding upon it. Having something that someone can use against him, against his people and against his authority…

It would be the end of him- the end of everything that he had established.

Everything he had built just to get that weakness out of his fucking head.

And he could _not_ have that.

So it was then that Negan had forced her- his fault- to become the very last thing that he had left of her and to aid him in his conquering of his desired position. He used their only remaining link to his beloved to resurrect her and to bring to life the darkest demon within himself.

He had birthed the _infamous,_ barb-wire-wrapped _Lucille._

The same Lucille that he had used to bash in the head of his rival, thus claiming his imperishable title as overlord of The Sanctuary. The same Lucille that he had used to bash in the heads of countless others who had betrayed him. The same Lucille that he had used to bash in the heads of her very own friends. The same Lucille that he was sure would be used to bash in the heads of numerous other victims.

The same Lucille that he had used to bash in the head of her memory.

So why was she here? Why had he brought her back? Why had his heart skipped a beat when she fell upon his eyes for the first time in nearly two years? Why hadn't he bashed in _her_ head- the person who deserved it the most- like he had her friends? Jesus fucking Christ why didn't he-

"Oh, Negan, sir!"

Immediately recognizing the shrill, panicked voice that had interrupted his reminiscence, the conflicted leader of The Sanctuary was forced to pry his gaze from the source of his internal friction and to the kneeling, balding man trembling behind him.

"M-My sincerest apologies, sir. I was told that you were f-finished speaking with my patient." Carson, the meek and monotone doctor of The Sanctuary, bumbled about, his gaze still glued to the floor.

 _ **Your** patient. _

Negan couldn't help but feel a vexation itch within him whenever anyone but him referred to _his_ Lucille with a possessive pronoun, as childish as it was. Deep down he knew that technically she _was_ in fact _his_ patient. Doctor Carson was the one taking care of her as he did all of the other Saviors in The Sanctuary, there was nothing more to any of the relationships- including his with Lucille. It was strictly a doctor-patient correlation, nothing more, nothing less. But still despite being aware of all of this…

He was unbelievably pissed.

 _ **My** Lucille. **My** patient._

The doctor had begun to ramble on nervously about something else in order to prove the sincerity of his apology, though Negan had simply turned his gaze back to his Lucille already. The pale girl was looking past her larger counterpart at the aged man knelt wearily on the floor, her eyes once again glowing with a mix of confusion and… relief?

 _What the fuck is she relieved for?_

It's just Carson. Fucking Carson.

He isn't… fuck. Get the fuck over it you fucking pussy.

Negan decided it was best not to wade too much into her emotions anymore for the time being, especially since he was pretty sure that he would be getting some sort of answer that he didn't really desire. So he simply decided to leave it at that his Lucille was happy to be having her bandage changed, or something of the sorts. After all it had been nearly a day or so since he'd brought her in and when Carson had first tended to her, so the wound beneath that gauze was probably getting pretty gnarly.

Yeah, he'd just leave it at that.

Sighing finally, the man heaved himself off of the cot in which the small girl resided on, thus withdrawing his hand which was still embracing her throat gently. He then looked to Carson, who was finally rising up from his kneeling position before saying, "So what ya' fucking want, doc?"

Negan noticed how Carson seemed to fidget slightly before responding, biting at his lips and squeezing his palms before finally providing him with an answer.

"I need to change um…Lu-Lucille's- Lucille, yes?" The doctor stammered miserably, his eyes dancing over to the blonde girl in the bed, who gave him a simple nod of confirmation before he returned his full attention back to Negan. "Yes, ah, I need to change Lucille's bandage, sir. It is getting quite late you see and-"

"Whatever. Do your fucking thing." The leather-clad man interrupted dully before simply taking his place leaning against the wall. He really wasn't in the mood to have this asshole try to suck him dry just because he was extra fidgety today.

So Negan watched Carson tend to the girl, almost beaming with admiration at how gentle he was able to be. Normally Carson was a monotonous, flat and emotionless man whom only showed some sort of care when Negan or some of his high-ranking Saviors were about. He'd attend to those who needed medical aid of course as long as they had the points required, however he was never one to be cautious whilst providing such. The graying man wasn't careless or sloppy, he just simply showed very little regard for any type of pain that any of his patient's were in due to his ministrations. They'd ran out of morphine long ago and their supply of any sort of anesthesia and even generic painkillers was quite minuscule, so those were on primary reserve for Negan's highest ranking officers and himself- or his wives if need be. So he had to admit that his balls were tickled pink when he observed how delicate Carson was whilst situating his Lucille. In fact, much to Negan's own surprise, he was barely even bothered when the man touched the frail blonde in order to position her so that her body was now facing the doctor himself, her legs dangling over the side of the cot in order for Carson to tend to the wound.

"And your feet still don't touch the god damn ground!" Negan goaded whilst he eyed the girl's toes dangling inches from the tiled floor. "Some things never change, huh, _Lucille_?"

The man knew she hated having her height prodded at, she always had. So when the small blonde didn't even spare a glance in his direction and instead only fisted her hands into the sheets of the cot, he wasn't really surprised. In fact he only wished that he could've seen the look on her face that that he knew that he had received for his teasing, but a long curtain of pale blonde waves kept it concealed from his line of sight.

Negan liked to imagine that behind her drapery of hair those pale cheeks were glowing that garden pink that he had grown so accustomed to long ago and her eyebrows were furrowed with annoyance at his teasing remark. In fact he could see her expression perfectly in his mind: those blushing baby cheeks puffed out in defiance, the dark chocolate moons narrowed to slits, that button nose crinkled ever so slightly as she fought back crude remarks that would surely only earn her an even worse degree of burn from him in retaliation. And dear fucking _god_ did he want to see th-

"I-It's cold..."

The soft, stuttering voice of his Lucille suddenly wrenched him from his longing imagination and back into reality, forcing him to center his mind on what was ensuing right before his very eyes.

And Jesus mother _fucking_ Christ he did not quite like what he was picking up.

Carson, that dirty old fucking bastard, had slid up the thin linen gown covering the frail body of his Lucille high enough to where he was sure that fucker could see straight through to where it really counted. He knew that earlier he wasn't bothered by the interactions between Carson and his Lucille, which even surprised Negan himself, but now all he could think of was bashing in the elder man's head with his barbed-wire-wrapped beauty until he was damn near unrecognizable. And of course any rational person would have known that in order to get to the wound on the girl's upper thigh that any sort of conflicting material would have to be discarded or at least moved elsewhere until afterward. However, in case anyone had yet to notice, Negan was very far from what most would regard as "rational".

"You'll warm up soon enough." The doctor all but chuckled as he took the girl's thigh into his palm, the swollen, red flesh of glistening in the dim lights as he pulled off the final bit of the old bandage.

 _Did he really? Did this asshole just fucking real-_

"Oh, you got goosebumps." Carson smirked softly and used a single finger from his free hand to spread a new layer of disinfectant onto the wound, causing the girl to flinch against the sting from the contact. "Sorry- I'm sorry. I know it has a bit of a burn to it, I'm being as gentle as I can."

Lucille- _his_ Lucille- simply nodded in response.

 _Carson? Dr. Emmett-fucking-Carson is trying to be gentle?_ _The same bastard who told Wade to "stop all that god damn whining" when he was brought in after having his eyes gauged by the very girl whom he's being so gentle with?_

Negan's arms began to cross, the muscles within them flexing and jumping as an overwhelming annoyance and rage began to wash over him. And, fuck, was it becoming hard to control said rage.

 _The same old fucking asshole who told Cam after his arm was cut off that if he didn't stop bleeding all over the floor he would make his ass mop it up whether he was an amputee or not._

His jaw was locking, his eyes were narrowing and his blood was boiling. The rage was reaching its peak.

 _The same Dr.-mother fucking-Carson who just_ apologized _to_ his _Lucille for the disinfectant stinging her. The same asshole who promised he was being as gentle as he possibly could. The same asshole who was about to get the other Lucille straight through his mother fucking sku-_

"N-Negan, sir?"

 _The same asshat cunt-wretch son of a **bitch** that keeps interrupting his god damn mother fucking thoughts._

"I-Is something wrong? You um…usually do not hang around whilst I tend to patients..."

 _Oh, you have got to be kidding!_

A devilish grin began to spread across Negan's lips, his arms falling from their original taut position and instead down into the deep pockets of leather jacket- which the man began to surmise was quite the right move on his own part. He could tell that his most simple of motions were beginning to absolutely fucking terrify the doctor before him. As soon as his arms had begun to fall to his sides after Carson made his statements, the other man's eyes had grown to the size of dinner plates- his face _seething_ horror.

Oh-ho-fucking-yes. That is exactly what he wanted.

"Not that I m-mind you here, s-sir! I-I j-ju-"

"What, you wanna be left alone with the pretty girl, doc?" Negan interrupted, his voice laced with a sort of cynical tease. "Let those fingers linger a bit further than just that stab wound, huh? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Emmett, you know that fucking shit does not fly here!"

And of course after that the situation only got _sweeter_.

At his very comment both his Lucille and Dr. Carson lit up with a searing red blush both rivaling the other. But how was he able to see that little blonde fairy's face you ask? Because Jee-zus Christ! She turned that sweet, delicate face right up to him with those big brown starry eyes glistening right back into his! It was like a post-apocalyptic _fucking_ Christmas and his Lucille was delivering herself to him wrapped up nice and pretty in big god damn bow.

"N-No N-Negan, s-sir! I-I had no s-such intentions!" Carson sputtered, his eyes darting around the room desperately as he searched for the best words to soothe his savage of a leader. They fell on the equally-red Lucille for a moment before the perturbed blonde quickly diverted her gaze and shifted her body so that his hand was not placed so high upon her limb. This only seemed to rattle the balding doctor all the more so. "I-I am well aware of your rules, sir!"

It was then that hulking, leather-clad man took a step towards the immensely flustered doctor, his dark eyes beginning to narrow viciously at his choice of words.

"So if the rule wasn't there you'd have pounced on her like all you can eat pussy buffet is what you're telling me?" He growled in response, taking a few more strides in the direction of the trembling, sweating Dr. Carson.

"Negan- s-sir- _no_!" The other man cried out, his wide, fear-filled eyes beginning to glisten at the brims with tears. "No, no, god, _no_! Y-You must understand I was put on this earth to h-help people, not harm t-them! I am a doctor for gods sake, please!"

Dr. Carson had nearly sobbed out the final sentence of his plea, and the hot, salty streams began spilling over from their sockets. The doctor was terrified- just like he had wanted him to be. Whether he really was just being friendly and gentle with _his_ Lucille or was actually plotting to use this situation as an advantage to slip into her panties, Negan wanted him petrified. Hell, he wanted this old geezer to piss his fucking pants if so be it. That way just in case if he _ever_ did have some sort of "intrusive thoughts"- especially ones about a particular little dwarf-sized blonde- he would castrate himself before ever even _thinking_ about acting upon them.

Yeah, that sounds **real** fuckin' good.

Negan had began to then take another step forward, the earsplitting thunderous beats of his combat boots smacking against floor causing the doctor to only start to sob all the more violently with each one that sounded. And dear _god_ did they sound beautiful. Each howling weep only enticed him even more to continue his terrorization of the man eliciting them. He wanted to demonstrate to him the absolute potential horrors that were the fruits of his unknown actions towards what is _his._ What is _Negan's._

Towards his _Lucille._

 _'Thump!'_

One step.

"N-Negan, sir. P-please, you _know_ me. You _know_ t-the kind of man I-I am!"

 _'Thump!'_ Two steps.

"P-Please! I swear to god and all that is holy that m-my intentions w-were and always will b-be pure!"

 _'Thump!'_ Three steps.

"S-Sir, Ne-"

"N-Negan...p-please."

 _Halt._

Finally.

He got just what he wanted- and not to mention a scapegoat.

The last thing he wanted was for one of his very own men to realize his sensitivity when it came to frail girl in front of him. The man knew that despite his people's immense loyality to him, a decent handful would surely be looking for an opportunity to claim some sort of revenge against him- and Lucille would be the perfect pawn in accomplishing such. Negan wasn't stupid. He was well aware that the primary source of his Saviors' loyality leeched from their fear of him and not from that of respect. After all he had claimed many of their own wives, girlfriends and the very heartbeats of their loved ones, so he didn't exactly blame them for such, but he'd be damned if anyone tried something funny to claim their little "hero" title. Especially if it came to that of putting a bullet into his own or Lucille's head. Bringing her back with him would open up the floodgates to what he was sure would be numerous retaliations and countless of his own weaknesses- but how was he supposed to resist?

She was his after all. He couldn't just allow her to leave him all over again. Especially not just so she could run back into the arms of Rick and his group- not after he carries out all of his intentions upon them.

However, despite Negan's internal conflicts, he couldn't hold back the cynical grin which had spread across his lips at the sound of her voice. It echoed sweetly in his mind, sending a whir of disorientation throughout his senses and nearly setting him off balance from his perfectly erect and dominant stature. Which was quite impressive if he must say so himself. Many knew that anything other than some sort of physical force had absolutely no power to do such a thing to him. But somehow her voice- no not her voice, but her voice uttering _his name-_ it had tickled him to the point in which she had lamed him right in his very tracks.

Could it possibly be because its sound is so soft? Or was it because of the way she had looked at him when she said it?

Of course such things probably took part in so, however there would always be just that one simplest and most overwhelming factor that would inevitably take the cake each time.

 _ **"N-Negan…** **p-please."**_

It was _her_ that said it.

 _ **"N-Negan…** **"**_

It was _her_ that uttered his name.

And Jesus _fuck_ did it please him ever so.

"Loo- _cille_!" Negan finally cried out giddily, carressing each syllable of her name as if it were a layer of silk upon skin. "How nice of you to finally address your old time pal by his actual fucking name! It took you damn long enough! But you always were a bit on the procrastinating side weren't ya, sweetheart?"

He could see her visibly flinch at the irony in his words, obviously picking up on his intentional use of it. The man guessed that she wasn't all too keen on him mocking their past, but frankly he didn't give a fuck. All this teasing and instigating on his part was to necessarily just irk her enough so that she would end up giving him what he wanted without him having to even ask- which he had succeeding in doing.

"And here I thought I'd just have'ta bash in ole Dr. Carson's head just to hear you say it. She sure is a stubborn one, ain't she doc?" Negan pressed, nearly singing the words whilst they rolled off of his tongue.

"Y-Yes, sir." Carson stammered as a forced, crooked smile played across his lips.

Lucille, however, continued to keep her silence after her pleading outburst a few moments ago. He could still see her face, which was was coarse with an unreadable expression, though she was no longer looking at him. Her gaze was instead fixated on the wall behind the squeamish man who had returned to very, _very_ gingerly tending to her leg. Negan followed her line of sight for a moment, hoping to catch a glance at what she was so intently fixated upon, though he was only overtook with confusion at the conclusion of such.

His Lucille was merely staring at the white linen curtain that separated her from the adjacent cot on the other side. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was weird and quite perplexing, he had to admit. And he would've loved to tease her about until she informed him of what the hell it was she was staring at; however, he didn't have the time to ponder upon what had captivated her so completely, especially since it wasn't even visible to him or seemingly anyone else in the room. There were still quite a few things that needed to be settled in which concerned his little Lucille.

So Negan decided to simply allow Dr. Carson to finish patching her up in silence, though not before muttering under his breath that the geezer better keep his dirty old hands to himself if he wanted to keep his skull intact. He had received a visible recoil from the man whom of which he had addressed in his threat, though the recipient decided to remain silent and to show no other signs of hearing such. Negan surmised that was probably the best thing that he could do, especially since his leader was still a bit on edge from his previous outburst.

Nonetheless Carson had finished rewrapping the girl's bandage in supple time, having a fire lit under his ass due to Negan's intense staring. The balding man had kept a straight face upon informing Lucille that he was all finished, and the small blonde replied with a simple, equally-rigid nod. The two were obviously trying to keep things as formal as possible after the leather-clad man's effusion minutes ago, both afraid that the smallest contact would possibly set him off again.

Dr. Carson then stood from his chair at Lucille's bedside, peeling off the plastic gloves he adorned calmly, opening his mouth to say something, though before he could make his address he was interrupted by the booming voice of the Sanctuary's leader.

"You think that she's well enough to fucking move yet, doc?"

Carson, tossing the gloves into the small tin wastebasket at Lucille's beside, gave his leader a befuddled look at his question, "M-Move her…where?"

"I want to take little Lucille here to her new god damn room, where else? She sure as hell isn't staying in this piece of shit excuse for an infirmary any longer than she needs." Negan replied matter-of-factly, almost as if this should have been obvious to the doctor himself.

Dr. Carson glanced back and forth from Lucille and his boss before he nodded uncertainly and said, "I suppose so. Though she is still unable to walk as the wound would simply reopen due to it having insufficient time to heal as of yet." The balding man seemed to hesitate before adding, "She needs to remain bed-ridden for another few days until the stitches can come out as well."

To this Negan felt himself smirking deviously and his eyes began to dance over to the silent Lucille, who was gazing down at her fingers fidgeting within her lap.

"Don't worry, doc, keeping her in bed won't be an issue for us at all, will it Lucille?" Negan remarked teasingly, watching as his Lucille's eyes began to narrow and her cheeks began to flare with a vibrant pale pink. Though, she still did not look up or reply.

 _Oh, no. We will **not** be having that._

"I don't think it fucking will, will it, _Lucille_?" The man repeated more loudly this time, his own dark pupils beginning to take on a slitted state.

Upon hearing the change of tone in Negan's voice, the girl then shook her head softly as some sort acknowledgment to his question. She obviously wasn't happy with what he was implying and was most likely all too embarrassed to reply to him verbally, so Negan decided that her silent head shake would suffice enough.

"Didn't fucking think so." Negan purred, his signature smirk beginning to snake its way across his lips before he turned to Carson and said, "Why don't you go grab that wheelchair, doc? I think it's about time my _friend_ and I got situated."

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	6. Chapter 6

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 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#6~**

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 **Series: ** The Walking Dead **  
Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing: ** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note: ** wow, um, hi! it has been...forever. nearly five months! i'm so sorry for the massive delay on this chapter, i've just been incredibly busy these past few months. i had my SAT (which i am now studying to retake a week from now...) and started my first job! between those and school ending i had very little time and drive to write again. but i truly do hope that this incredibly long chapter makes up for it! it's nearly 13,000 words, just off by like 205 i believe. which, ironically enough, i wrote 95% of this over the past 2-3 days. i finally got that urge to pump out another chapter! i have a lot of plans for this story, i just have to work up to them and put all of those ideas into words! so without further ado, please enjoy chapter six!  
 **Please:** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve c:  
 **Thank you!: ** A super special thank you to , Charlene Clark, purpleheart689, lorisuit, Corina27, KiariSohma and all four Guest Users for your reviews since my previous update! They mean the world to me and truly inspire me to keep writing as well as help me improve. And another big thank you to all 59+ favorites and 97+ followers of this story! I can't believe that I made it this far in so few chapters, thank you so much.  
 **ATTENTION: IN SEARCH OF BETA/PROOFREADER:** Whatever that you'd like to call it really! I am in search of a beta reader/proofreader that I can send my newest (and even old chapters!) to for them to review and correct. I do it myself each time before I post, but I always end up overlooking lots of mistakes that I make and I am usually too lazy to go back and fix them ;_;. So if anyone would be interested in such please send me a PM or let me know in your review or something please. You will receive credit posted on each chapter that you proofread and review. Also, please be able to provide me with some sort of document that shows your grammar skills and such- it doesn't have to be anything perfect! I know I sure am not, but I just want to be sure that you're someone who can catch and correct my mistakes if possible! Thanks!  
 **P.S.:** if this chapter feels kind of slow/eh and like it won't contribute to much- trust me! it will! there is a lot of relationship building and small details that will contribute vastly to future chapters. please enjoy!

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 _"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."_

 _-Anais Nin_

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 **Time Period: About two years ago.**

"Fucking Christ." Negan cursed under his breath, eyes narrowing as the small metallic ball fell away from his view on the old computer monitor.

It was another slow day at work that was winding down to its end at an excruciatingly untimely manner, thus causing him to resort to his usual game of mind-numbing Space Cadet pinball. Not that it wasn't a decent pass time seeing as it kept his mind entertained enough so that he wouldn't end up gauging out his eyes with a pen, but it was nonetheless still a _last resort._ Therefore it was the _last_ thing he wanted to be fucking doing.

He knew that there were of course other things that he could do until the final bell rang, however, believe it or not, they were far worse than playing this shitty excuse for a video game. There was, for example, going to mingle with his cock-Nazi coworkers who practically wet themselves whenever he cursed around the students.

 _No fucking thank you._

He could also go around and monitor Coach Weitzel's football practice that had started thirty minutes ago or so, but he'd prefer to not have to watch a bunch of wily, pubescent fucks in jockstraps grapple each other until one started crying and the drill was cut short.

 _Abso-fucking-lutely not._

Or, of course, he could be doing his actual job taking care of the gym and filling out paperwork, but what was the fun in that? If anything he'd just end up screwing up even more bullshit than before and be stuck there even longer.

 _Did he really have to say anything to this?_

Then again Negan wasn't really sure what he was counting down the time for; burning each second as if it could fuel the tiny fire inside of him to keep going until that godforsaken bell rang. He had no plans with Alice tonight or anything sort of interesting ahead of him once school did let out for the day. The only thing that the man actually had waiting for him afterward was going home to his moody and abrasive wife who probably wouldn't even glance at him the entire night. And if he had to be completely honest, he was never really ever looking forward to that bullshit. As a matter of fact-

 _'Knock'_.

At first Negan thought that he had imagined the noise. It was so soft and so gentle- sure as hell not like the other coaches when they needed him. They'd practically punch a whole through the fucking door half of the time. Not to mention that is was a _single_ knock. Who the fuck only knocks once? It's like an all-known universal etiquette that you knock _twice_. So who the _fuck_ is disrupting the world's order?

Letting out a disgruntled sigh, the man ran a hand through his hair before letting out a half-hearted, "Come the fuck in.". He made sure to keep his eyes glued to the door so that he could figure out just who the hell was being so fucking weird, but after about ten seconds and it still had not opened he was left wondering if it had actually even been a knock. It was, after all, uncharacteristically quiet and not to mention the fact that it was only one knock was just strange, so it probably would make more sense if someone had just bumped against his office door on their way down the hall. If anything Negan would be more content with that because then it meant that some asshole didn't have the half a mind to only knock once.

But then, oddly enough, the door began to slowly creak open. It was at least twenty seconds after he had originally allowed whomever the fuck it was entrance, but once the beholder of the single knock and the emperor of procrastination made themselves visible, he understood completely why everything was so fucking out of the ordinary.

Because the person in front of him was so fucking out of the ordinary themselves.

Before him stood none other than Alice's daughter; the strange tiny blonde dwarf with eyes that resembled dinner plates and stature that could rival a ten year old's.

The girl had stepped into his office before closing the door just as softly as she had knocked upon it and then turning forward so that she could face him, her pale face a stone of unreadable emotions- which he had to admit shocked him to an unthinkable end.

 _Huh._ Negan thought to himself incredulously. _I half expected her to at least be halfway to a fucking tomato by now._

All of his previous interactions with this girl had always seemed to result in at least one absolute outcome- one that never, _ever_ failed to come of their nearness. Even when he hadn't spoken a word to her in that hallway during their very first meeting _it_ had happened. It was inevitable- practically what one could label as their _fate_. So why? Why the fuck was this time different?

Why wasn't Alice's daughter a fumbling, squirming, blushing mess that she always was around him?

 _And why the fuck did he hate it so much that she wasn't?_

Though it often seemed that this girl plagued him with countless questions whenever she was near, however, there was one question concerning the enigmatic Lucille before him that really was especially baffling.

"Well, _Lu-cille_. If this isn't just a god damn treat to see _you_ here I don't know what fucking is!" Negan cooed, leaning forward on his desk as a smirk overtook his features. "If I didn't know any better I'd say that there must be some sort of revolution of the mother fucking century taking place outside of this office for you to have come to _me_ first!"

 _Why the name of Jesus mother fucking Christ is she_ _here?  
_ _  
_Trying to hide his astonishment of her appearance before him, Negan instead decided to try and ponder why she would possibly be before him in this moment. It wasn't like he had her marked down on his schedule- why would he? He doesn't even mark down appointments that he knows he is supposed to have, so could someone please explain why the fuck he would record one he knew damn well he wasn't supposed to ha-

"A-Ah...My mother..."

 _She speaks._

At the sound of her voice Negan suddenly found his mind beginning to draw an incessant blank. All of the runoff and fumbling within him to a skidding halt as soon as those lovingly stuttered words fell from her lips. It was weird- usually his dirty, vagrant psyche never shut the hell up no matter what was happening around him. Hell, the world's finest porn star could be on her knees in front of him with her eyes glazed and jaws hanging open and he'd still be pondering about something else other than solely her.

But Alice's daughter…?

That weird little Lucille always made his mind revert to a completely vacuous state- especially when she spoke. Then, after being wiped clean of any previous thoughts, it would be just her that filled his conscience.

Primarily just about how fucking weird she was or that she was too short- but nonetheless it irritated him.

And also quite frankly freaked him the fuck out and just left him scrambling for some sort of explanation for this.

Maybe it was her strange ways- after all she could really catch _anyone_ off guard with the whole "mute" act- especially when it came to someone like Negan himself. He was always so loud, charismatic and boisterous meanwhile you could barely force a peep from the fidgety little blonde. It could also have to do with the fact that the two- if you placed them side by side- were complete and absolute opposites externally as well.

He was what most would label as the "tall, dark and handsome" type; standing at a muscular 6'2 and most times donning black, leather and boots, he practically had ' _Complete Opposite of Alice's Midget Daughter'_ tattooed across his forehead. Meanwhile the strange and tiny Lucille that seemed to always catch him so off guard probably stood at a "whopping" 4'10 or 4'11, was tiny, petite and fairy-like and seemed to wear clothing that was so…

Negan felt himself nearly laughing at the irony as his eyes danced up the bulky hunter green colored sweater that Lucille was wearing at that very moment. As soon as his gaze fell upon it he found automatically himself comparing it to the unflattering oversized t-shirt that she had been wearing upon their first encounter as well as the damn-near same sweater she had on during dinner the other night.

… _Lucille_.

How he somehow knew what qualified as "Lucille", he didn't really know.

And why the dawning of that realization made him flinch, he also wasn't exactly sure.

"She said y-you…" The pale-haired fairy's big doe eyes lowered slightly as she wrung her hands together with an obvious discomfort, "have the s-stuff."

It's then after Lucille finished speaking that Negan felt as if someone had tossed a brick at him. Even though the small girl had been incredibly vague with her words, he knew just what she was talking about.

How the hell could he have possibly forgotten that he promised Alice and her kid that he'd help remedy their lack of service learning hour issue? Especially after the whole dinner catastrophe a few nights ago. Or when Alice herself had sent him a text earlier that morning to let him know that her daughter would be stopping by for the essential paperwork that accompanied it all the while dropping a few "subtle" texts about them meeting up later that night that he had yet to respond to. And quite frankly he really didn't feel like it either. Lately their little "get togethers" had been leading to her and him battling it out over him staying the night- something he really did not feel like dealing with after such a grueling day.

Lucille, however, for some strange godforsaken reason, he was more than happy to accommodate at that moment.

"Actually, _Lucille_ , I do not mother fucking know. What could it possibly be that you're talking about?" Negan queried, feigning innocence as he leaned back in his chair, donning a toothy grin and stroking his stubble. "I for one am _irrevocably_ god damn stumped on what you could ever mean!"

He watched with amusement as the soft face Lucille began to be seemingly fighting off signs of annoyance. Her nose was scrunching slightly, her brows were furrowing and those plump lips of hers were becoming two taut puckered lines whilst her hands squeezed one another in a silent vexation.

"T-The stuff..." The blonde muttered softly, locking her stern brown gaze with his own as he felt his hilarity skyrocket.

Cocking an eyebrow, Negan let out a laugh, "Sweetheart, the way that you're talking makes it sound like you're expecting me to hand you over a baggie of coke or something. Now c'mon, use your words. You wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong god damn idea would you?"

"The f-forms." Lucille replied immediately, her soft voice filled with what sounded like a mixture of frustration, impatience and a perpetual discomfort as one of her small, sweater-enveloped hands rose to point at something behind him.

Negan furrowed his own brows in confusion before following her line of direction with his gaze. When his sight trained on what she was referring to he nearly fell out of his chair due to the overwhelming amusement upon being met with the rusted beige-colored filing cabinet he had still yet to use since gaining this office.

 _How old-fashioned of her._

"Doll, I've never touched that thing in the fifteen or so years that I've worked in this hellhole." The man scoffed, pointing his thumb behind him in the direction of the cabinet. "For all I know it could be full of playboys just waiting to be unveiled."

At this Lucille's cheeks immediately lit themselves aflame and her and her brows began to furrow in a way that made him giddy with excitement. She looked nearly comical with such a bewildered look upon her soft face; eyes wide, thick brows creased into a beautifully flustered manner and nose crinkled as if she had just caught a wiff of the dirty jockstraps a few doors over.

 _Fucking priceless._

"Either way, Miss Lu- _cille,_ " Negan piped up, earning a particularly adorable-yet-defiant glare from the small girl, "What you are looking for resides within this bad boy." He then finished, patting the less-than-impressive computer atop of his messy stacks of papers.

The man watched with dancing eyes as Alice's daughters' line of sight fell upon the dusty old desktop on top of his scratchy, disorganized table. For some reason she seemed quite perplexed- puzzled, even. As if for some reason it was simply unbelievable to her that someone his age knew how to work something as "complex" as an ancient _Windows_ '99 PC as well as the filing system within it.

Which, if Negan himself had to admit, kind of offended him.

Hell, he wasn't _that_ old.

"It may be prehistoric as fuck but it gets the job done- like me, eh?" He decides to jest in order to leech some of his pride back from the fun-sized female across from him.

However, this simply earns him a simple nod in response whilst Lucille shifted on her feet uneasily and mumbled a barely coherent, "I-I see."

 _This girl really isn't much a fucking talker._ Negan thought to himself, taken aback slightly but how much of a total mute this girl was turning out to be. He was _himself_ after all- the charismatic, talkative and absolutely ass-mongreling Negan- and yet he still could _barely_ manage to keep a conversation going with this strange pale-haired creature. And _that_ is something he thought would always be nearly god damn impossible!

Stunned with the revelation of such, Negan simply draws himself closer to his desk so that he is able to seize the mouse and click out of his incessant game of pinball before beginning to rummage through the disorganized files of his desktop.

"Service learning hour forms, huh, Lucille?" He mumbles mostly to himself, not even sparing the girl a glance as he figured that she wouldn't a provide a response- which he, of course, was right about. She merely returned to him with that godforsaken silence of hers. Though, he was not discouraged in the slightest bit. If anything her silence only pushed him further to get more out of her.

"Speaking of which, did your mom chew into your ass anymore about those damned things after I left the other night? She seemed pretty pissed about the whole thing if I do say so myself."

 _God, he just couldn't leave good enough alone, could he?_

At this Negan took immediate notice of the girl's freshly-arisen discomfort due to his most recent prodding. Maybe it was because the situation as a whole was embarrassing for her- lacking service learning hours mere months before graduation that is. Seeing as most seniors complete theirs during their Sophomore year especially. So it really was quite out of the ordinary for her to be here before him balls-deep in the predicament that she was.

Though, he realized, it could also be because he mentioned being over her house the other night- which was an entirely different level of shitstorm to delve into, so he really preferred to leave this undisclosed for now.

"No." Lucille suddenly- incredibly- responded.

It was curt, brief and not to mention about five to ten seconds late, but, hey, it was a fucking response- a _verbal_ one at that. And that was enough to satisfy him for a few seconds.

"Huh, that's a mother fucking surprise. Even after I told her I had your back, Lucille, she still seemed quite fussy." Negan cooed, clicking away absentmindedly on the computer.

But, only a few seconds that it was.

"Then again your mom can get a quite snappy if she hasn't had a little freaky deaky in awhile, am I right?"

As expected he received no _linguistic_ response from Lucille, though he was sure that there just _had_ to be some sort of present waiting to be unwrapped when he lifted his eyes from the fluorescent screen of his dusty old desktop.

And oh, ho… how right he was.

When Negan had finally lifted his eyes to observe his reaction from the oddest being that was this Lucille, saying that what he was presented with pleased him was a _severe_ understatement.

Alice's pale little princess had completely turned away so that he was now staring at the back of her head with her hands, from what he could tell, plastered over her face in an extreme act of embarassment.

 _Gold, pure fucking_ _ **gold**_.

"Nah, guess you wouldn't fucking know, huh?" Negan snickers simply, taking in her tiny trembling form before reverting his eyes back to less-than-appealing loads of files in search of those god damned forms so he could send the red-stained Lucille home to cool off.

However, he wasn't quite too sure how quickly he would be rushing her out the door at this pace.

Several minutes had passed them by- Lucille's back still turned to him as she fumbled flusteredly with her sweater's hem- and there was no sign whatsoever of the service learning hour papers being anywhere within his system. He had checked every folder that there was on his god damn hard drive and found just about every other fucking form that there could have ever possibly been thought of. Cheerleading, football, field hockey, fucking badminton (when in the fresh hell had this school even had a badminton team?), volleyball, soccer, tens of hundreds of ass-paining clubs and even the fucking baseball management forms. But, of course, no god damn service learning hour forms.

Letting out an exasperated sigh of annoyance, Negan groans, "So, we have a bit of a problem here Miss Lucille."

The man looks up and watches as she peeks over her shoulder at him, her cheeks still stained pink and her face still riddled with embarrassment whilst her barely-visible fingers knead nervously as a loose thread on her sweater. The girl's cocoa bean eyes were wide, her dark flashes fluttering uneasily as she forced herself to maintain the most uncomfortable eye contact that she has probably ever held. Those brows of hers were furrowed upwards in what he couldn't tell if it was annoyance or dismay- maybe both- and the tip of her tiny little button nose was tinged red from- fuck, was she crying?

Had he really made her cry from just a simple joke?

And why the hell did he love it?

And more importantly, why the hell was he ogling over how mother fucking god damned cute she looked with tears running down those soft pale cheeks and those pouty lips of hers quivering?

And Jesus mother fucking Christ, why was he so bent on how different she was from Alice?

Or more so any woman that he's ever slept with?

The only time they ever cried was when he broke it off or if things got a bit _too_ kinky.

And here was this weird little blonde pixie, trembling and puffy-eyed from him making a jest at banging her mom.

So Negan simply came to one very simple and very obvious conclusion:

This girl- this strange pale midget- was most definitely not of this mother fucking species.

Forcibly snapping himself out of what he guessed was a trance, Negan added to his previous statement with a simple grunt, ""I forgot that the sports office doesn't have the service learning hour forms, that's the main office's bullshit to deal with thankfully."

At this, strangely enough, Lucille began to turn back towards him with wide- was that horror in their depths?- eyes.

"Fuck, I'd hate to be the poor son of a bitch who has to deal with over three hundred seniors' forms. I can print you out the manager papers though."

It was then that Lucille began to glance around the room nervously, turning her body so that she was once again facing him completely and asks, "I-I'd have to u-um...go to t-the office f-for the service l-learning hour ones?"

Negan, a bit stunned that she had actually given him an entire sentence, had his mind go blank for a moment before finally hitting the _Print_ button for the manager forms and providing her with a response.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm sure one of those assholes at the front desk can get you everything you need." He forced out, his eyes remaining locked with the strange Lucille's as he rolls back in his chair to the printer and grabbed the papers before returning to his original position at his desk.

The girl surprisingly shuffled closer to him, her eyes fixated on the small stack of freshly-printed papers in his hand.

"Here ya go, _Lucille_." Negan purred, outstretching his arm so that he can meet her half way in the retrieval of the forms.

She seemed to hesitate before reaching out to take them from him, obviously avoiding his hand to make sure that they didn't touch as she grabbed the very edge of the document.

The girl began to murmur a small, "Thank you." but was abruptly cut off by the booming laugh of Negan as he calls out, "Jee- _zus_! Fuck, you've got some small ass hands, doll!"

The man watched as she quickly snatched her hands away, tucking both them and the papers behind her back, cheeks becoming that signature red of hers.

Negan grins as a silence overtakes the room for a bit before Lucille is miraculously the first one to break the quiet and asks, "Um...T-Today is Tuesday, yes?"

He looks up to her before glancing down at his monitor which reads the date, "2:00 pm on Tuesday, September 24".

"Right you are, Miss Lucille."

Oddly enough- though it seems as if every interaction with this girl is, well, _odd_ \- he watches as a look of horror identical to her one of earlier at the mention of the front office falls across the Lucille's expression and her muscles tense up.

A bit concerned with her sudden change in demeanor, Negan decided maybe- though probably not- he could be of assistance in her _trying_ time, "Everything okay, doll?"

Lucille glances around his office uneasily, not meeting his eyes, though he still is able to take notice in the tears beginning to brim at her eyes.

 _What the fuck?_

"What the hell's wrong with Tuesday?" Negan pressed, his jaw tightening and eyes hardening as he watched an overwhelming state of panic begin to overtake the tiny body of Alice's daughter.

Lucille blinked a few times, letting out a shaky breath and wiping her eyes before meeting his with an easily-see through "I'm just dandy" facade. Straightening up, her fits clenching tightly at the forms behind her back with an audible _'crush'_ ,she simply replied with- god, he must be a fucking psychic or something when it comes to emotional women-, "I-I'm fine."

A pregnant pause filled the room as Negan's taut face seared into the tear-filled one of this strange blonde dwarf's.

"I-I u-um….I have t-to go. Thank you a-again for the f-forms." Lucille intercepted frantically, her watery eyes dancing around nervously once more before meeting Negan's a final time.

Confused, Negan begins to open his mouth to say "don't mention it" and bid her a perplexed good-bye, but before he can even get the words out that strange little Lucille had already scrambled from his office and closed the door behind her in a frenzy, leaving Negan simply saying, "….No fucking problem." to himself.

 _Good thing she's cute, cause she sure is weird as hell.  
_

* * *

About ten minutes or so after his bizarre encounter with Alice's daughter Negan found himself leaving school through the back entrance when it started to pour down rain as if they'd been in a drought for the last six months.

"Son of a three-balled bitch." The man cursed heatedly, pulling his signature leather jacket over his head before hauling ass to his pick-up truck across the parking lot.

He tossed the dripping black hide-laden jacket across the seat, muttering about how the rain was going to soak the upholstery and make it smell like ass for the next three weeks. Doing his best to ignore the vexation itching within him, he stuck his key into the ignition and turned it until he heard the obnoxious revving of his beloved truck's engine begin to squeal and sputter in that way he just adored.

Sure, his trusty old pick-up was rusted, chipped, falling apart and just about being held together with ductape and is, as a whole, a piece of shit- but she's _his_ piece of shit.

Negan has had the rusty-blue Ford since his second- and last- year of college and the two had what he would call a very special bond. They'd been through a lot of bullshit together throughout all of these years- hell, he had literally lived out of her after one of his ex's tossed him out of their house after she discovered that he had been banging her sister being her back. He couldn't exactly blame her, though it would've been nice if she at least let him stay in their place until he was able to snag a new apartment.

The man found himself laughing at the memory as he turned down a residential street a block or so away from the school, opting that it was probably a better choice than tanking the beltway during rush-hour- especially during a torrential fucking downpour. Not to mention he actually kind of enjoyed the calming, slow-paced outlying neighborhoods compared to the incessant speeding and beeping of the highway after a long day at work. In fact sometimes Negan would even stop and park by the curb to just enjoy the peace and quiet that he knew would dissipate once he returned home to his wife. If he was being honest, it was kind of the only time of the where he could truly relax.

Letting out an exasperated sigh at the thought, Negan decided today would be a good day to do such and pulled into an empty spot at the curb of a house that probably cost four to five times his yearly salary. He leaned back into his seat, sighing contentedly as he let the comforting upholstery of his one true love consume him whole.

Everything was so quiet, so serene. The only sound that thrummed in his ears was the rain and his own breathing- no radio, no wife, no annoying coworkers. It was complete and utter repose. It was exactly what he need-

"You don't talk much, do you, eh?"

 _Oh, for fucks sake._

It wasn't out of the ordinary for him to hear the occasional voices while taking his leave in the confines of his truck within these high-end neighborhoods. However, this voice in particular was just very _loud_ and very _annoying._ Negan guessed it was because it must be hard being heard over the loudness of the rain so the one speaking had to raise his voice, but it still pissed him off to no end.

This was his time to just go completely numb and enjoy the very little tranquility that he was ever able to achieve in his life and then this asshole comes along and…

Negan suddenly found his mental rant come to a halt as he finally laid eyes on the beholder of his disturbance and his… companion.

The man watched the pair through his wind-shield wipers as they walked up sidewalk under an umbrella and he nearly found himself dry heave due to the irony.

Beneath the waterproof canopy stood a tall young man with dark hair, a navy blue pea coat and black dress pants- seemingly quite out of place to be walking in the rain. Not to mention he was wearing a pair of black dress shoes that may cost more than his truck was worth at this point. However, despite the guy's obvious misplacement, what Negan was truly focused on was the girl with the long pale hair that stood nearly five inches short of his shoulder beside him.

At first he really wasn't sure that it was her- after all there had to be more than one tiny blonde dwarf roaming around this area right?

Then his eyes caught sight of what she was wearing.

...A hunter green sweater four times too big for them…

Then boys odiously loud words then rang in his ears once again, _"You really don't talk much, do you?"_

How many other 4'10, practically mute, oversized sweater-wearing blondes with wavy curls past their hips could there really fucking be around here?

Raising his eyebrows and clicking his tongue at the revelation, Negan decided to simply watch as the two walked off, reveling in the fact that shy little Lucille had a boyfriend.

The girl who couldn't stand hearing him talk about dicks, ass or anything in between was really palling around with some dude who…

Negan's eyes began to narrow as he watched the two closesly whilst they drifted further from his sight due to the rain and their own distance. Nonetheless, despite his hindrances, he could very much so make out one specific detail- even with the visual of it being a bit blurry.

Lucille was damn near standing half of a foot away from the guy and practically out from under the umbrella.

"What the fu…?" Negan muttered, squinting his eyes and leaning forward in his seat to try and get a better glimpse at the situation now a good fifteen feet away from where he had parked.

And for some reason… he was starting up his ignition.

 _Now, Negan, you see, he really isn't a nosy guy._

And for some reason he was fastening his seat belt…

 _As a matter of fact he fucking hates being involved in other people's business- too damn troublesome._

And for some reason he was beginning to inch his rusty old Ford towards the pair.

 _Especially if it has to do with someone completely irrelevant to him._

And for some reason the closer he grew to them, the angrier he was becoming.

 _Someone like… Alice's dwarven daughter._

Maybe it was because she was the kid of someone that he really did care about- at least somewhat. Alice was a fuck-buddy and friend if anything and that still entitled him to some sort feelings toward her, even if they aren't any type of love. There's still a genuine care and attraction, so surely caring for her daughter…

 _Was it plausible...?_

Or maybe it was because Lucille looked more god damn uncomfortable than she ever had with him- and that's mother fucking saying _something._

The tiny girl was tense and curled in upon herself, hunching her shoulders inward in an attempt to make her smaller and retain less space that was close to her counterpart. She was halfway out from under the umbrella and had her head down with her hands fastened uncomfortably in front of her, wringing her fingers as if they were full of rainwater themselves.

He couldn't see her face, but it would take someone to be completely blind and dumb to not notice the immense discomfort in her stance.

Her body language practically screamed, _"Jesus fuck get this cock-juggling thundercunt the hell away from me."_

But the worst part?

The creepy fucker next to her was either totally oblivious to the tiny girl's suffering or chose to completely ignore it- and fuck, he didn't know which one annoyed him even more.

But nope, that sniveling little shit-weasel just kept yapping away down at the poor girl, his eyes fixated on her face that Negan was unable to see still and occasionally brushing his arm or hand against her.

And each time, she flinched.

It was such an obvious and visible flinch that even _Negan_ could see it through his water-stained windshield from a few feet away.

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, the man decided that today he was going to be a good fucking Samaritan and help poor Lucille out of this shitty god damned predicament. Not because she was even Alice's daughter or because she was a cute little shit in distress, but because he is just a _good mother fucking_ person.

Yeah, he'd go with that.

So he went with and _did_ just that.

Revving his engine slightly and rolling his window down before closing the distance between himself and the two, he watched as their heads turned puzzledly in his direction.

Thus, he immediately caught sight of those teary big brown baby eyes just begging for someone to put her out of her misery.

 _Yup, that's Lucille alright._

And so Negan closed the distance between the three of them and put his truck in park directly beside the two who had an equal look of bewilderment plastered upon their faces.

However, he was able to detect a slight bit of relief twinkling faintly in Lucille's gaze and that was more than enough for him.

"Can we help y-" The boy started, only for Negan to cut him off by abruptly beeping his horn, causing both of them to jump in surprise at the sudden loud _'honk!'_ that rang out through the rain-beaten sky.

A strange look then crossed across the boy's face when the man flashed him a bright, toothy smirk and pointed a finger at him saying, "I see you've met Lucille here, my friend."

The boy's ice blue eyes seemed to narrow at this and his perfectly trimmed eyebrows furrowed in a way that somewhat appalled him.

 _Was it only Lucille that could make eyebrow furrowing_ _so_ _god damn cute?_

"Lucille and I here met quite some time ago, _my friend_." The tall boy growled, venom lacing each word he spoke.

And Jesus _fuck_ did he want to clock this little smart ass.

He could see it now: him jumping out of his trusty old Ford, rounding his truck only to grab Lucille's little cock-grabbling companion by his perfectly-parted hair and smash his face into the rain-soaked pavement until he went into a coma for six months. And then, - _oh, fuck, here's his favorite part!-_ he'd be waiting by this little asshole's bedside just to beat him into unconsciousness a second time so that maybe when he wakes up from his next vegetative state he'd think twice about talking to him in the way that he just mother fucking dared to.

However, sadly, he'd have to settle with verbal and emotional abuse for now.

Cause this little shit sure as hell wasn't gonna be going down without a few scars- physical or not.

"Yeesh, you've sure got a sensitive here one, Lucille. You sure he's not following you around just so the two of you can share panties or something?"

At this the girl's face turned the brightest red that he's probably ever seen.

Tomato red would've been an absolute _fucking_ understatement- the little dwarf was practically god damn vermilion.

"Excuse me?" The boy hissed, his eyes growing hard and wide from behind his perfectly-rectangular glasses. "Did you just dare insinuate-"

"And, fuck, the poor thing's deaf too!" Negan laughed, his teeth showing brightly as he wrung his hands on the steering wheel. "Lucille, honey, you really need to ask questions about all of these puppies you keep bringing home from the pound. They just keep pissing everywhere and the last three- including this charmer- seem to be lacking a few chromosomes, if you're picking up what I'm putting down."

"Last three- what in the hell is this guy talking about?! Lucille!" The boy practically looked as if he was about to wet himself he was so furious- and fuck, did that just make Negan want to prod at the bull even more.

"Damn, you really are fucking dense, kid." Negan sighed, his eyes dancing over to Lucille who was simply staring up at him with huge, unreadable eyes. So, he simply decided to continue. "It's a figure of speech you corpsey-looking motherfucker- or more so just me insulting you. Whichever hurts that painfully-swollen ego of yours more. I'll let you choose, but you may wanna check in with mommy first, cause by the way you're dressed she seems to make most of your decisions for you, eh?"

This time the boy remained in complete and utter silence- most likely due his disbelief at how entirely rude this stranger who appeared less than minute ago could possibly be.

And also how he seemed so familiar with little Lucille.

Negan was pretty sure that this kid had probably mapped out what that pale dwarf's life was and who she surrounded herself with due to her meek demeanor. He was more than _positive_ that this kid thought that he could just read her like a book and copy down each of the pages word for word. That somehow he got the thought in his head that this strange blonde midget was _easy to read_.

Cause Jesus fucking Christ was he wrong. Negan had thought the same exact thing when he had first run into this girl. He allowed himself to believe that she was just awkward, plain and simple- something he could crack and fry easily.

And ever since then she has done nothing but confuse the absolute hell out of him. Making him contemplate to the very edges of the earth what in the absolute hell was going on in that freaky little mind of hers. So the man could only imagine what this kid was thinking when some grown ass man rolled up in a rusty old Ford that was obviously acquainted with this "oh-so-simple Lucille" which he thought that he had all figured out and started roasting him from the inside out.

"Either way." Negan sighed, a smirk tugging deliciously at his lips as his eyes fell onto the near-catatonic Lucille, who not to mention was now drenched with rain due to her shuffling so far away from her counterpart. "You need a ride home, Lucille? It's wetter than your mom the other ni-"

Negan stopped abruptly at the last part of his sentence as he noticed the girl's eyes widen to a circumference that he knew had to painful and her plump lips began to form a mortified 'O'.

He figured she was either embarassed from what he was implying or simply horrified that he would let it leak that he was nailing it to her mother in front of this fidgety ass boy- probably both, if he had to be honest. So Negan decided to correct himself and finish with a simple, "It's pouring fucking buckets, kid. You want a ride?"

Strangely enough Lucille seemed to hesitate at his offer. The man was more than positive she would have jumped at the oppurtunity to get away from this creepy fucker, but then again he was sure that he himself was probably just as bad as this kid beside her. Of course he wasn't trying to get in her pants or anything, but he sure did tease her and talk her ear off enough to make her avoid him like the plague. Still, Negan found himself much preferring that he got her home on good terms rather than taking the chance of allowing this douche canoe to lead her by the arm to god knows where.

"Come on, doll. I don't feel like having your mom chew me out later- and not in the good way- about letting you walk home in the fucking rain- especially with this little ass mongrel. Just get in the god damn truck."

The boy opened his mouth as if to protest, but Negan flashed him a look that shut him up almost immediately.

 _Finally, the dog learned his place._

"I-I don't...I won't let her know, so, no thank you."

 _Oh, for fucks sake._

Why the hell was she sticking to this little asshole?

"You heard her, grandpa. Just get the hell-"

"Kid, if you're gonna insult me at least be mother fucking original. I bet Lucille here- who probably doesn't have an asshole bone in her body- could come up with something more savage than that. And she looks like she's in the fifth grade. So for the love of all that is holy, shut that whiny little trap of yours, okay?"

 _Fuck, why the hell am I getting so fucking irritated?_

"And you, Lu- _cille, s_ he's gonna fucking figure it out when she sees you walk into the house looking like you just survived the god damn Titanic."

The small blonde flashed him a look of annoyance- most likely from both of his comments- before replying with a mere, "S-She works late tonight and we own a dryer. I will be fine, t-thank you."

After this she simply turned to her wordless companion and nodded her head forward as a sign for them to continue on. The boy looked uncertain at first, but in the end he complies with the small blonde, though not before flashing a look of indignant victory back at Negan.

In that moment he wanted to drive up onto the sidewalk and run the snide little bastard over. But god knows a vehicular manslaughter charge really won't sit well with him for the rest of his life. So he instead decided to be just as persistent as the tiny blonde fairy at the boy's side- if not only to win against the little shit who could barely hold his own in a verbal confrontation, but so that he doesn't wake up to front page news tomorrow about a particular pale-haired girl's naked body found chopped up in the woods.

 _Jesus Christ this little shit is annoyingly stubborn._

"Look, if you don't get in the fucking truck I'll just decline your manager application, sound good?" Negan proclaimed as he rode alongside the pair, a look of deviance set across his maw.

At this Lucille halted abruptly, causing the male beside her to have to take a few paces back so that she was still under the canopy of his umbrella. However, despite Negan's threat she simply stared straight ahead, her jaw tight and eyes hard while a blank expression overtook her.

For a moment he finds himself feeling guilty for playing such a harsh way with the girl. Even if he wouldn't have actually declined her application if she still refused, he really didn't have the right or place to do so. She wasn't his kid, his friend or really anything of importance to him and neither him to her. But there was just something gnawing deep within him that told him that her telling him "no" in this situation just wasn't acceptable. Who knows why, but his gut has never let him down before, so why would he stop following it now?

Surprisingly, his asshole card seemed to work.

Before he knew it, Lucille was hauling open his truck door and climbing inside like a blind newborn puppy. Of course he figured the height of his Ford would be a bit challenging for her, but he had never anticipated that watching her struggle so righteously to get up into his seat would be so god damn entertaining. Not to mention satisfying.

As Lucille managed to place herself into an upward seating position before pulling the heavy door closed, Negan threw a wickedly smug glare at the boy who stood there speechless with his umbrella limp in hand.

 _Feels good to feel good._

"Lu-Lucille! Hold on, hold on! Do you even know this man?" The little shit suddenly burst out, wiping the splatters of rain from his glasses.

 _I could ask you the same you little dick wrinkle._

He took a stride closer to the car and the pale pixie seemed to recoil slightly at his sudden nearness. "He mentioned your mother? Is he your father? Who is he?"

At the sudden barrage of questions, Lucille's eyebrows seemed to furrow in what Negan figured was annoyance. Most likely because the girl appears to absolutely despise talking- primarily to this guy- and because she was most likely stuck on _who_ Negan really was to her. After all what really could she say? That he was the "other man" in her mother's marriage and that she helps keep it hidden from her own father? Obviously not. So maybe he could lend a helping hand…

"I just so matter of fucking fact happen to be he-" Negan began, only for him to be abruptly cut off by the softest voice to have ever filled his ears.

"He's the gardener." Alice's daughter spoke nonchalantly, her face wiped clean of emotion as if she was telling a truth that she had known since birth.

 _Oh, you have_ _ **got**_ _to be kidding me._

"T-The gardener?" The boy stammered, looking bewildered as ever whilst his eyes danced back and forth from the two polar opposites set next to one another in his rusty old Ford. However, he didn't seem entirely convinced. "Then what was all that fuss about a manager application? Are you going to be managing his landscaping business or something like that?"

Lucille, still donning that entirely emotionless face of hers, replied with a simple, "S-Something like that."

The young man seemed puzzled- perplexed even. It was obvious that he was fumbling around with an inner turmoil that most definitely had to deal with him comprehending this bizarre "truth" that the tiny blonde was spewing about. After all, he believed he had her all figured out, right? So why would Lucille- the sweetest, most honest and innocent little bird- lie to him? Surely she wouldn't, yes? Of course not, ha ha! For he has her entirety mapped out like a floorplan and simply needs to execute the construction of his new found… _project._

 _Fucking asshole. Little mother fucking-_

"I-I would like to go home now, p-please."

Negan, upon hearing the soft request of the small girl often caught in the middle of most conflicts, looked over to her with a pleased smirk and exclaimed, "About damn time! I've got a lot of shit to start planting and this asshole has been taking up enough of my time to where I could've beaten off, taken a shit twice and had a bolonga sandwich each time in between."

Once again the boy remained silent, his eyes icy pools of complete and utter astonishment. Obviously, he was just as stunned by the lack of what they both _thought_ was Lucille as Negan was after spending enough time around her.

"Sucks don't it?" The man cooed, grinning out the window at the boy who still only staring at Lucille. "The moment you realize you don't know shit?"

At this the kid's eyes snapped to him a bit menacingly, almost as if he was about to curse him to hell and any other damned place that he could just so think up of in his tiny little mind, but Negan really wasn't in the mood for anymore of his sad little blabbering.

"Toodles." He called out, revving up his truck abruptly before slamming his foot on the brakes so that both he and Lucille were jerked back by the sudden and rough start of his truck.

* * *

The drive had been relatively silent since Negan and his pale little dwarf had left her friend behind in the dust about five minutes ago. He had decided to leave the radio off and keep his mouth closed in an attempt to get the tight-lipped Lucille to actually start a conversation with him over what had just happened- but he should've known better.

She hadn't even looked at him the entire ride- let alone spoke a single syllable whatsoever.

To an extent it had irritated him. He figured that he was doing her a favor by not only getting her out of the chilly fall rain, but also by getting her away from that obnoxious little douchecunt; so of course he was a bit taken aback by the fact that he hadn't even received a small thank you in return.

But, again, he guess he couldn't really blame her. Choosing between himself and that guy is like asking someone if they'd rather have their right or left arm sawed off.

However, that doesn't mean he wouldn't at least try and spark up some sort conversation between the two. He absolutely despised such utter silence.

"Now, isn't this much better than walking around with that creepy little asshole and getting pissed on by Jesus mother fucking Christ at the same time?" Negan asked suddenly, glancing at the girl from the side of his eye as he drove on.

Lucille didn't even spare him a glance and simply wrung her hands together, almost as if she hadn't even realized that the man was speaking to her. Though, Negan knew far better than that.

That little shit was doing it on purpose.

Tightening his jaw in thought as his muscles jumped within, he let his hands grasp his steering wheel a bit more firmly before a just _wonderful_ idea popped into his head.

As the two began to approach an upcoming stoplight at the nearing intersection, Negan unexpectedly yanked the wheel to left and into the turn lane; earning stark arguments from both the tiny girl in the passenger seat and the other drivers around him.

"W-What is wr-!"

Ignoring the protests of the obnoxious car horns and the high-pitched cry of Lucille, he then sharply veered the truck through the intersection, cutting off countless cars that were coming their way, until the came to a skidding halt in the parking lot of a grocery store as he weaved himself dexterously into a free spot.

Negan, letting out a simple, pleased sigh, then switches off the engine as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred and looks over to Lucille. The man is met with the comedic scene of the girl clinging desperately to the door handle with her eyes wider than saucers and her legs tucked up beneath her in a way to keep her settled upon the seat. She stared forward for a few more moments, panting heavily before her head slowly turned so that she could look up at the smirking man in the driver's seat.

"Was always a bit of a NASCAR fan, ya see, Lucille?" Negan laughed, absolutely tickled with the fact that she just simply gazed back at him with same eyes as she had been for the past fifteen seconds.

After flashing the girl a toothy smile, he then begins to unbuckle his seat belt and open up his door before Lucille's soft stuttering voice interrupted him.

"W-Where are you going? W-Why did we stop?"

Negan continues to step out of his truck until he is situated on the soaking wet asphalt outside, slid on his leather jacket and then exclaimed, "This place has got mother fucking canned peaches four for two dollars, Lucille! Now can you please tell me where in the shit split's chance you'll ever see that anywhere else in this day and age?"

The dark man watches with delight as a confused look spreads across her soft face and he lifts an eyebrow at her and says, "I know that we got off on the wrong foot sweetheart, but I figured, hey, since we're gonna be palling around more often with me sticking it to your mom on a weekly basis and you becoming the fearless leader of the god damn baseball team and all, we oughta bury the hatchet. And what helps a new friendship flourish more than some cans of mother fuckin' half-priced peaches? After all, I said I had some planting to do! So why not plant the seed of this _beautiful_ new friendship of ours?"

Negan watched with amusement as the girl's expression of confusion slowly turned to one of pure annoyance. He directed no blame at her, considering that she was soaking wet and being forced to ride home with a man whom she was not the biggest fan of, though he would be damned if he had to suffer the rest of the year until she graduated with her being so fidgety and god damn quiet.

He then gives her a huge grin and motions with his hands towards the grocery store and says, "So whataya fucking say, Lucille? Do you wanna keep being a little ass-grabbling, service learning hour-less mute or learn to live and become best buddies with one of the _finest_ pieces of ass that the entire human race has to mother fucking offer?"

At this the pale girl's face began to twist and crinkle as if she was trying to debate with herself whether he was joking or being entirely serious- and Negan guessed that she came to the logical conclusion that he was very much so in fact being one hundred percent resolute. Because she then continued to remain silent, but her face did not cease it's strange and adorable contorted state. He figured now that she was contemplating his offer, though he wasn't really all too sure why. She didn't really have a choice in the end.

Not to mention it was still pissing rain hard enough to penetrate though his clothing, so Negan figured that he'd speed up the process a little bit.

"Offer expires in three, two..." He sang, swinging about on his feet as he rolled his eyes boredly.

"O-Okay! Fine!" Lucille cried out, her face mishappen in a permanent pout as she swung her door open and scrambled out, nearly tumbling onto the rain-soaked ground in the process due to gap between her feet and the pavement. Nonetheless, she was able to meet Negan at the front of his truck in one piece so that she could throw the most adorably indignant glare up at him.

The man looked down at her and raised his eyebrows in amusement, a crooked smirk dancing on his lips as he marveled at how she just barely came up to beneath his pectorals before running his tongue along his teeth and said, "Just too god damn charming to reject aren't I, Lucille?"

* * *

The grocery store was rather empty as the unlikely pair made their way through the aisles. They'd been walking in silence until they finally came to the canned goods until began Negan whistling a tune obnoxiously loud and swinging the plastic basket that he had hooked around his arm, his eyes scanning the shelves for what he was looking for. Over his homemade music he was able to hear Lucille behind him, her shoes squeaking on the floor as she shuffled along after her hulking counterpart. They had yet to pursue any sort of conversation since the exchange in the parking lot- most likely due to the fact that the little blonde dwarf friend of his wouldn't let a word escape those pouty lips of hers. He had tried cracking a few jokes, asking a few questions and even made her fidget and blush a few times- but still not a word. So, he figured he might as well leave her be and let her mope for awhile. After all moody women weren't exactly his forte.

"Stewed tomatoes, sliced carrots, butternut squash- ha, butter _nut_. Who the fuck names this shit? Right, Lucille?"

However, for some strange mother fucking reason, Lucille was a bit different to him- especially when it came to her and her wacky ass moods.

Negan turned around slightly to see the girl's eyes wandering the aisle before stopping a few feet away from him just to give him one of the most dead-panned stares that he has ever seen; completely unamused.

 _The hell is up with this kid?_

Letting out a long sigh, the man rotated his body so that he was now completely facing her, the empty empty basket slung nonchalantly over his shoulder whilst offering her charmed smirk.

"Do you only have like two god damned emotions, doll? Cause so far I've only ever seen you look as if you're about to simultaneously fuckin' combust because you're so hot and bothered or you're staring right through me with that mechanical ass homicide glare plotting my demise."

At this the girl simply blinked at him, not moving a muscle or her mouth to provide him with any type of response. She merely played with the damp hem of her sweater, eyeing the much larger man up as if he not even there.

"Huh. Not even tiny smile? I mean, nothing?" Negan prodded, taking a small step towards Lucille. At this gesture she narrowed her eyes slightly, setting one of her feet further back as if preparing to turn around and sprint away if he dared come an inch closer. Upon seeing her discomfort, he figured it was best to not push any buttons too far in and kept his distance, though his lips once again found theirs.

"I have been told that I am quite the god damn charismatic guy- pretty fucking funny too- and yet you still never even chuckle, Lu- _cille_."

Strangely enough, the blonde seemed to raise her thick eyebrows in a "yeah, right" type of way before simply turning on her heel so that she could stalk over to one of the shelves and take one of the cans into her small hand speculatively.

"The hell was that look for?" Negan scoffed, his face a slate of confusion as he eyed her back.

A small sigh escaped Lucille's mouth as she set the can back upon the shelf before saying, "I don't see any peaches."

 _So. Fucking. Weird._

In response Negan sucked his teeth for a few seconds, a devious grin spreading across his face as he watched her analyze the countless canned good lining the aisle.

"Ice _fucking_ cold." The man exclaimed, taking his spot beside his tiny companion so that he can rake his eyes across the endless labels as well. "I like it!"

Not even taking her eyes off of the shelves, Lucille replied with a simple soft, "Hmn."

 _Well, that's better than_ _god damn_ _silence I guess._ Negan thought to himself, his gzae roaming for what they were both on the lookout for. However, it didn't take long for him to spot just what they needed sitting pretty on the highest shelf.

Thank god he was blessed with a substantial height- at least in comparison to a certain someone that he knew.

Negan reached over so that he could tap the girl upon her delicate shoulder and gain her attention- which he did, however she didn't seem to pleased with the contact. As soon as his pointer finger had met the damp cloth of her sweater, Lucille immediately threw some sort death glare right at him; though, it more so mimicked that of a frustrated toddler than anything close to intimidating.

Nonetheless he removed his finger from her person, ghoubh the blonde stared at the spot in which he had touched her for just about five god damn seconds before lifting her gaze up to meet his with slitted eyes.

 _Too fucking fun to fuck with._

Smirking down at the girl's adorably contorted face, Negan lifted the same finger that had come into contact with her moments ago so that he could point to the stacked cans of peaches way up on the top shelf.

"Georgia-fuckin-fresh! Can you believe it, Lucille?"

At this the girl's eyes softened and her eyebrows raised before following the direction of his finger until she had to crane her neck back in order to eye the peaches way above her head.

 _This is going to be fucking good._

"T-They're um…" Lucille began, to which Negan rolled his eyes and muttered out a faux-annoyed, "In a mother fucking can, okay, whatever. False advertising and all that bullshit, I get it. But, Lu- _cille_! Aren't you _excited_?"

The girl gave him a strange look, confusion riddling her face and clouding her eyes before saying, "...Because they're four for two?"

"Well, fuck, anybody would get hard over that, but I meant the fact that this friendship is truly blossoming into something _beautiful_!" Negan exclaimed, donning a toothy grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat and earning an even stranger look from Lucille herself.

The pale dwarf eyed him questioningly for a moment longer before she slowly shifted her eyes up to the peaches that were stacked very much so obviously out her reach. She remained that way for awhile before she began to throw brief-but-obvious side glances his way and shifted on her feet as if she was waiting for something.

Which, apparently, she was.

Of _course_ she was.

She was Lucille after all.

The Lucille who didn't have a chance in a shitstained hell at reaching those peaches like any normal god damned person.

And _fuck_ did he absolutely adore it.

"Aren't you going to...y-you know…get the peaches d-down?"

He unconditionally _worshipped_ it.

Negan shifted his gaze down to Lucille, his eyes wide and completely aghast as he shakes his head vigorously from side to side.

"Lucille, where are your mother fucking manners?!" The man exclaimed, feigning his offense that she would just somehow _dare_ to even ask such a vexing question. "Here I am bringing us closer and even paying for this _damn_ fine dinner out of my own pocket and you're asking _me_ to get the peaches? I for one am _appalled_ at your behavior, Lucille. In fact I am unsure if I even want to continue to nurture this _oh_ -so-beautiful _budding_ friendship any longer I am so god damn offended! I for one have never felt so scorned in my whole _life_!"

The small blonde simply deadpanned up at him; her delicate face a completely blank and emotionless slate until after a few seconds she simply asked, "Are you a sociopath?"

"Maybe, but you're pretty mother fucking rude." Negan shot back, a crooked smile playing on his lips. "So I guess it evens out, making us the _perfect_ pair, Lucille!"

Strangely enough, at this the girl's face somewhat changed.

It was barely noticeable- practically fucking invisible really- but Negan, being as so interested in this strange vertically-challenged alien as he was, was able to pick it up right away.

At first he wasn't really able to identify what it was- hell, if he had to be honest he _still_ wasn't all too sure what the hell had flashed across her face just then- but, he had a bit of an inkling to what it could possibly be.

 _Surprise, maybe?_ Negan thought to himself, his eyes following Lucille as she forced her chocolate brown gaze away from his own.

 _Disgust, perchance?_

The girl then raised her arm and gingerly touched the highest shelf she could- which was about four shelves short of where the peaches were even on her tiptoes; fingers stretching as if she were reaching for the moon.

 _Hell, even distrust is an option._

"I can't reach them."

 _But for some reason, I wanna go with hope.  
_  
"Trust me, doll, I am well aware of this." Negan scoffed and gazed down at the girl from the corner of his eye. It was no big surprise to him when he saw that she was still gazing up at the peaches instead of him, though for some reason he was starting to wish that she'd give him that look again that she had a moment ago. However, due to his comment, her cheeks were fading back into their all-too-familiar red once again, so he couldn't really complain. Cause that alone made him giddy as hell.

"You see, this is a test of our friendship."

This time, believe it or not, Lucille did toss a vehement look of annoyance up at him which he was sure to eagerly catch.

"Aw, Lu- _cille_! Don't look at me like that!" He exclaimed, unable to tame the joyous smirk spreading to each corner of his cheeks. "I just need to know that you're willing to prove your god damn self to me! After all, I can _not_ have a lazy and mother fucking disloyal little dwarf managing my baseball team, can I? No, no, _no_."

For a moment Lucille just stared at him like she usually did with that unreadable look of hers, to that he returned with a raise of his brow and glint of his teeth; though, she did end up providing him with a response after nervously glancing around a time or two.

"S-So you want me to scale this shelf and get the cans of peaches at the top," The blonde started, her eyes narrowing slightly as she spoke, "- even though you can reach them with little to no effort- just to prove that I am...good enough?"

Negan, a bit surprised at the amount of words that she just spoke, decided to just take a moment to marvel at how far he was actually progressing with this kid. To most people a mere sentence would probably mean absolutely nothing- especially with it being an incredibly seething and condescending one at that- but when it came to strange little Lucille even getting a bat of the eyes was revolutionary.

She was just like a robot of some sorts- completely and abso-fucking-lutely mechanical. It was almost as if she had someone inside of her to control her every movement, but their fucking remote only had two buttons: stiffer than a dick or completely and utterly flustered until she turns the color of a fire engine.

Not that her odd mannerisms and ways still weren't strangely fucking enough adorable and all, but to some extent they truly irked him. Not in a way of annoyance but in a way that gnawed at something deep inside of him- kind of like she wasn't really happy being this way. Or that it just wasn't really intentional- she didn't _mean_ to seem like she had the personality of a fucking counter top.

She just… was only able to be that way for some strange fucking reason.

As if there was something restraining her from being the _real_ Lucille.

"...I was thinking more along the lines of reliable and obedient, but fuck, that works too!" Negan finally put in, deciding that he had spent more than enough time roving over the thousands of thoughts in his head that were starting to primarily revolve around a particular blonde shit.

At this Lucille gave a distressed sigh and looked up at the peaches. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes were slits, almost as if she was stuck in contemplation of whether or not making a colossal fool of herself all because of him was worth it. She remained that way for a solid fifteen seconds or so until she made the decision.

The decision that probably sealed her fate when it came to Negan.

Letting her backpack slide off of her shoulders and onto the floor with a _'plop!',_ the small girl began to place one of her child-sized feet onto the bottom shelf before reaching upward to grasp the next protrusion to hoist herself up.

"Sociopath." She muttered under her breath, earning that all-too-delightful signature smirk from her counterpart.

"I may be a sociopath, but I am also your god damn best friend, Lucille! And the guy who is throwing you a life preserver while you're neck deep up shit creek!"

To this she forseeably didn't respond- though it was most likely due to her intense focus on hauling that tiny body of hers up to those prized peaches. However, her focus must've not been too keen.

As soon as Lucille lifted her foot up so that she could step onto the next shelf in line- the third one at this point- she slipped. The rainwater covering her shoes had created a lubricious barrier between the poor girl and the slick, metallic shelves that she had situated herself upon. Quickly, her hand shot up to grasp the shelf above her, though she ended up releasing it due to the oversized sleeves of her soaking sweater getting caught beneath her hands, thus proving yet another unreliable and impossible obstacle to overcome when climbing something that you need such a solid grip on.

But, as Negan had said earlier, he was throwing her a life preserver.

Thinking fast, the man promptly grabbed a fistful of the garment around her neck, managing to steady her as she stumbles backwards and into him. As soon as the contact was made, the sound of all of her breath getting caught her throat was distinct. He was sure that he probably had knocked the wind out of her that way- not to mention was choking her due to the restrictions around her collar- but he figured that it was better than her falling flat on her ass.

Hopefully she fucking agreed.

Though, the look the was throwing his way seemed to say otherwise.

Lucille was regarding Negan from the very corner of her eye, a deep dark red tinting her cheeks. Her lips were pursed, eyebrows furrowed and that button nose of hers seemed as if it were about to catch aflame. It was then, though, after analyzing her features so closesly that the man began to realize she wasn't really looking at him in a menacing manner, but more so in a "This guy has to be fucking kidding me" type of way.

For which, once again, he could not blame her for. If he was having a day like hers there's a 99.9% chance that he would be donning the same exact look that she had on her face in that very moment- though he was sure he'd look a lot more scary than cute.

Releasing her and making sure that she is steady upon the ground, Negan grins and says, "See, _Lucille_! I've got your back and you've got mine! A bond that cannot mother fucking be broken!"

At this he simply received that siganture deadpan stare from the girl- which he had to admit was a lot more precious when her cheeks were the color of two fresh tomatoes- before she switched her gaze back up to the peaches. As she studied the cans her delicate face still beheld that same expression that it had when he had stopped her from falling moments ago- or at least her features were somewhat the same. The only difference this time was that her eyes were narrowed to slits and that tiny button nose of hers was crinkled, giving her a look as if she were trying to figure out how to slay some sort of invisible beast.

 _This kid is crazy fucking weird._

Negan follows her gaze and lets out a sigh whilst his hands find their way into the pockets of his leather jacket, humming, "You sure have found yourself in quite the pickle, huh, Lucille?"

The girl still doesn't look in his direction- unsurprisingly- however, she does begin to do something strange.

Strange even for her.

Lucille began to slide off her shoes and socks so that she is standing barefoot in the aisle, then slid up the sleeves of her sweater to her elbows.

"Let's play ball then."

And so, she once again began to scale the shelves to claim the peaches atop of them.

Negan had to admit- at first he was confused as hell.

What in the shit was he _supposed_ to think when this girl just haphazardly starts kicking off her shoes and socks like she's about to perform a strip tease? Not that he would _necessarily_ be against it, but there was still this insane overlying fact that this girl can barely look him in the eyes, let alone get down to her underwear and start dancing in front of him. However, there was this even more incredulous reality that was still looming above him- and he really, _really_ didn't wanna delve into it.

Negan, beaming with excitment, says, "Now _that_ is what I like to mother fuckin' see! Innovation at its finest my dearest Lucille! I knew you were the right choice!"

He _really_ was hoping that she wouldn't have stopped.

To his previous statement the girl paid little attention to and simply kept upon her righteous journey to the top. She was about two shelves away from the peaches when suddenly the frantic call of an unknown voice caused both of their heads to snap in the direction in which it had come from.

"U-Um! Excuse me, little girl! Please don't climb on the shelves!"

Negan sees some scrawny guy who looked to be in his early to mid twenties scrambling down the aisle in their directions, his hair parted in a greasy comb over and a red cloth vest that was far too big for him hanging from his lank frame loosely. He also had a clipboard clutched tightly to his thin chest and a name tag that read "Gareth" pinned to him.

 _Oh, boy. Things are about to get good._

The man stops beside Negan, who is forced to look up at him and says, "S-Sir, u-um, please t-tell your daughter t-to not-"

 _The fuck._

"Woah! She ain't my god damn daughter, kid. That's fucking disgusting!" The much larger man bellowed incredulously. "That little ass mongrel there is the daughter of the woman whom I am screwing behind my own wife's back- so please fucking fact check before intervening in such perilous situations."

Gareth seems taken aback and completely flustered before he desperately looks to Lucille and says, "T-The store has a s-strict n-no shoes, no service policy, m-ma'am. We a-also do n-not allow-"

Lucille is then the one to interrupt, one hand holding onto the bar of the shelf and the other comes out holding a can of peaches while she simply states, "I will be finished soon, so please, I beg of you, to shut your mouth." She then simply hands the can of peaches to Negan, who places them into the basket, forcing back a childish smile of pride and delight.

 _This Lucille._ He thought to himself giddily. _She really can take some shit seriously._

The boy seems a bit taken aback by this and cries out, "I-I don't care how s-soon you will be f-finished! You c-cannot be climbing the s-shelves- b-barefoot nonetheless!"

However, the next move that kid made was one that Negan was sure that he would forever be regretting.

Gareth started to reach out for Lucille, who has already turned back around to grab another can and is completely unaware of the scrawny petulant shit preparing to yank her six shelves or so down to the ground.

At this Negan's hand flashes out, grabbing the boy's thin arm in a vice grip as he stares down at him with slitted eyes and says, "I would advise you to not mother fucking touch- or even _think_ of- touching her, kid. You see-" Negan then pauses for a moment, only to turn so that he can take the next can from Lucille before continuing, "that _kid_ whom of which you just tried to fucking snatch off the shelves- yeah, the little blonde oompa loompa-" He notices Lucille shoot him a glare as he says this, but he simply resumes with his speech, "is completing her mother fucking initiation for me at this very moment. And if she is interrupted- oh, ho _man_! I would really mother fucking hate to be you! Cause you see, kid, that girl- despite being the size of a fifth grader- will _not_ hesitate to beat your lanky little ass senseless with one of those cans of peaches! I know her, kid, and can _damn_ well confirm that she is one downright ferocious little shit! You do _not_ stand a chance in hell against her."

Negan then simply looks up, taking the last can of peaches from Lucille as she stares down at the two men blankly and says matter-of-factly, "And would you look at that, she's already done! She may be savage little hobbit, but she is sure damn _honest_ , yeah?"

Lucille, hopping down from the final shelf as her eyes flutter over to Negan, raises her brows at him.

"Yes, telltale sociopath." She declared, earning an identical eyebrow raise of amusement from Negan whilst she pulls her shoes and socks back on.

Once she had finished placing back on her garments and slinging her backpack over her small shoulders once again, the girl looks up to the terrified store manager- who is still board-stiff in Negan's vice grip- and says, "Please excuse my counterpart's lies and strange ways, he forgot to take his medicine this morning." And then simply walks past the two men, who are now equally stunned.

Negan, staggered and frozen, suddenly snaps out of his trance after a few seconds and mumbles, "Medicine? Did she..." before releasing the scrawny kid's arm to run after Lucille, shouting, "Hey, Santa's Little Helper, the fuck did you just say?!"

Gareth simply stood there in a gawking, confused and terrified state.

* * *

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	7. Chapter 7

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 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#7~**

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 **Series: ** The Walking Dead **  
Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing: ** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman. The song referenced in this chapter is "I'll Be Seeing You" by Billie Holliday.  
 **Author's Note: ** another massive delay on this story- once again, i'm so sorry! life has really gotten the best of me these past few months as well as writers block. i've finally been getting some more ideas for this story that i DON'T have to wait six chapters to incorporate so, that's a good sign! this chapter isn't nearly as long as my last one, but it is still a rather decent length. there were supposed to be two longer scenes to go with it actually, but i thought that these two scenes really tied in well with one another enough to make these the sole scenes. things will be picking up soon, don't worry!  
 **Please:** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve :)  
 **Thank you!: ** A super special thank you to all of the reviewers and over 100 follows and 85 favorites, I never thought this story would ever make it this far!  
 **ATTENTION: IN SEARCH OF BETA/PROOFREADER:** Whatever that you'd like to call it really! I am in search of a beta reader/proofreader that I can send my newest (and even old chapters!) to for them to review and correct. I do it myself each time before I post, but I always end up overlooking lots of mistakes that I make and I am usually too lazy to go back and fix them. So if anyone would be interested in such please send me a PM or let me know in your review or something please. You will receive credit posted on each chapter that you proofread and review. Also, please be able to provide me with some sort of document that shows your grammar skills and such- it doesn't have to be anything perfect! I know I sure am not, but I just want to be sure that you're someone who can catch and correct my mistakes if possible! Thanks!

* * *

 _"Unfortunately, the escape became the trap."_

 _-Marcia Cameron, Broken Child_

* * *

Mortified.

Paralyzed.

Petrified.

All of those words fit just the way she felt, but at the same time did not. Because Lucille was quite positive that in this moment no word in any language could possibly come close to describing just how irrevocably terror-stricken that she was.

Negan was back.

She had a dreamed of this moment for days upon years, but now she was yearning for that infinitely-seeming amount of time to return so she could be torn away from his treacherous grasp.

He had reentered her life in a way that she couldn't have possibly ever imagined. All of the daydreams of him somehow swooping in out of nowhere to save her from a hoard about to tear her into thousands of pieces had been swept away completely. The countless nightmares of encountering him as a walker and battling the struggle to put him down before he took a chunk out of her- thoroughly gone.

Because instead he had found her in a place that she truly would have preferred to remain undiscovered forever. Or more so the place that _she_ had found _him_.

Or found out _who_ he was.

"You know, Lucille," Said dreaded man piped up as he wheeled her into a dimly-lit elevator, "When someone asks you a god damn question you're supposed to answer. I thought that we had cured this dry spell of yours long ago."

Her jaw clenched in discomfort.

Lucille knew exactly what he was referencing, and the way that it made her stomach churn with a conflict of nostalgia and hatred nearly made her sick.

All she wanted at this point was for this all to be over- no matter in what way it had to come to an end.

Death, coma- either was more than welcome, though the first was far more preferable due to the fact that the latter would leave her waking up to that sinister dark smile of his.

But she wasn't an imbecile- far from dumb and nowhere close to stupid. And so was he. They both knew what their reunion entitled, even if it caused much different emotions within the other.

Now that Negan had her back he wouldn't be letting her go easily, or at all.

Laying eyes on one another had obviously been something both of them had been craving for nearly two and half years, and now that the thirst had been satiated, Lucille was in high doubts that Negan would be allowing his mouth to grow dry ever again.

"Well, love, you're going to be having throw this whole "catatonic-silence" practice of yours into the fucking trash very soon whether you like it or not." The dark man behind her chimed, "You're mother fucking _famous_ around this joint, _Lucille_. A public icon, if I do say so myself! Gonna have to work on that communal speaking of yours that you're so damn fond of."

She hated him. _God,_ she hated him. Loathed his very existence to a core in which one could never possibly fathom.

Especially when he would cite their past with one another. He was obviously doing it for one of two reasons. Possibly to awaken her emotions from so long ago and cause her to have some sort of lovestruck epiphany, resulting in her to falling into his arms with saucer-eyes and an open heart, professing her undying, yearning for him. Though it could either be to simply cause her stomach to churn at how much he had changed when compared to those memories.

Possibly both.

Each, regrettably, were present within her to an extent.

 _Famous_ , though?

Even within her disdain-ridden state Lucille was able to catch a few of the words Negan was babbling into her ears. And him crowning her as a public icon was most definitely a few that she had caught wind of.

And _fuck_ did it only leave her even more puzzled than before.

How could she- someone who had never even set foot near this strange place full of Negan and his cohorts- be so well-known and hailed upon by all of them?

Of course, she was a paramount segment of his past. Anyone who knew Negan knew that. But that is why she was so perplexed as to _why_ and _how_ she was so notorious around this dampering compound.

Negan- _her_ Negan, the Negan that she _knew_ \- was a private man who withheld _all_ and _any_ of his weaknesses. Especially from those that could potentially use them against him. And who better to utilize Negan's deficiencies against him than those whom he seemed to control and dictate with an unyielding fist- or bat- covered with careless crimson?

After all, each and every person that they had passed on their way from the infirmary had fallen to their knees before him in silence, heads bowed, as if he were some sort of royalty. Yet, there was no sense of true respect in their cloudy eyes which had been cast to the floor upon Negan's entrance- only fear. Which, of course, is quite the commandeering factor when it comes to survival, but Lucille knew that while fear kept people in line, it didn't always keep them in _your_ line.

So why would Negan- particularly this _new_ Negan- let everyone in on his past? A past that was not only a gross taboo years ago, but a _deathly_ one in the present?

It made no sense. No sense at all.

"My people love a charismatic leader- obviously as you can see they chose me." Negan chimed, turning the wheelchair around a corner that led to a very wide and lavishly-lit hallway.

 _Chose, he says._ Lucille thought to herself, forcing back the bile rising in her throat at the irony. _As if anyone has a choice when it comes to Negan._

She sure as hell didn't.

Lucille didn't choose to come here to follow him back to his "Sanctuary". She was quite literally drug here unconscious and forbidden to leave. All because…

She flinched at the thought.

 _ **"You're mine."**_

"So _my_ darling Lucille, guess you and I will have to resume those little speech lessons of ours from so long ago, eh? Those pipes of yours need a little warming up after all these years."

Oh, how she detests him for referencing so many memories from their past.

So many memories she was still so fond of.

As if he has the right to recollect them and to speak about them to her as if _he_ is the man who made those memories with her. As if he is _that_ Negan.

 _That_ Negan…

"Don't worry though, love. I'm sure after all these nights you'll be spending in my bed, those vocal chords of yours will be nice and oiled up; ready to address any mother fucker who walks in through that front gate."

 _Classic Negan._

However, even though he had said and even _done_ far more explicit things to her in the past, the thought of the two of them actually engaging in such acts now simply coiled Lucille's stomach into some sort of painfully blurry knot of emotions.

Disgust, of course, was riddled within the bunch. Only an idiot would crawl into bed with their psychopathic enemy, even if they were the beholder of their heart. The thought of it… sickened her. Though, it also made her want to strangle him senseless.

The other feelings laced within that jumble, though, she refused to delve into.

She simply couldn't face them. She refused to.

Not like she would have the time to be able to anyways.

Because suddenly, a whistle ripped through the air just then.

A high-pitched, abrupt and _Negan_ whistle. One to obviously get her attention. Because it wasn't on _him_.

 _He's such a child._

Lucille then took notice that Negan had stopped wheeling her down the hallway, halting the two of them in front of the last door within the dim corridor. Resting a hand on the girl's shoulder, the looming presence of darkness itself slowly rounded Lucille until stopping directly at her front, only to kneel so that she could then look directly into the void of its gaze.

That terrifyingly familiar gaze.

"Now, Lucy…," Negan smirked, his hand sliding up from her shoulder to engulf the smoothness of her left cheek, "You're gonna be meeting some… acquaintances of mine." He then paused thoughtfully. "Yeah, guess you can call them that."

The man seemed to snicker the last part of his sentence, obviously pleased with himself that he created some sort of ironic joke.

A joke that Lucille only found to freeze her blood and make her fingers go numb. Lord only knows what Negan has up his sleeve- especially nowadays. He always left her wondering whether knowing or being oblivious to what was going on within that sadistic mind of his was more frightening.

"Don't worry, they'll play nice. No one will ever touch you." Negan promised, though the way that his eyes darkened during the last sentence made it seem more like a looming threat rather than reassurance.

With that, nonetheless, Negan was back on his feet and twisting the pristine silver knob that led to a room full of what he had described as acquaintances.

As the door slowly inched open with every passing second, Negan intentionally pushing it with an unnecessary ease to build up that uncomfortable tension that he loved so much- which had undeniably not left since she opened her eyes and found herself in this hellhole-, Lucille could only feel that knot residing within her belly tighten even more so.

She could only imagine the scene that would be before her within only a matter of seconds. What kind of people- or monsters- that were awaiting her on the other side.

Maybe men- twenty or more- all lined up like cadets in a boot camp with shiny boots and artillery, every pair of their dark eyes fixated on her with the sole intention of obeying every one of Negan demands.

Or possibly a room full of the undead. Chained to the walls and old pieces of furniture, the all-too familiar scent of decomposing flesh wafting into her nostrils, no longer triggering her gag reflex. How could it? The stench of walkers was even more common than the smell of body odor these days.

What would Negan want with a room of lame-brains, though? Shits and giggles? Intimidation? Either way it seemed unconventional… a waste of space. Who needed an army of walkers when you had one terrifyingly charming, bat-wielding man with slicked back hair?

Though, she guessed that said man would. Not that he _needed_ it, he probably just wanted it. Perhaps he was bored or just liked to terrify people. Both assumptions seemed viable…

However, despite the contemplation upon Negan keeping a closet of biters in his house, there was one scenario that Lucille was unable to keep from surfacing.

The one that she truly was hoping was just an overly-dramatic hoax thought up within her head.

Her friends and comrades- all of them, even the ones she wasn't all too familiar with- splayed about the room that was covered in a virulent vermillion mist, either dead or about to be. Ranging from those such as Carl all the way to a man whom resided in Alexandria that she didn't even know the name of. All of them- not a single one missing- were there. Being bled out, bludgeoned to death, ripped to shreds by both the living and the dead…all at the order of Negan. The man whose name that she let fall from her lips so lovingly and so softly for so long…he would be massacring them all. And making her be the witness to it all. He would be forcing her head straight and her eyes open, making sure that she heard every last scream to ripple from their lungs and saw every last drop of blood to seep from their bodies. Lucille would watch as Maggie and her unborn child fell victim to the fists of countless men dressed in black leather similar to Negan's. She would witness the skull shattering of Glenn, who was crying for Maggie and his child rather than his own brains spread across river of red below him. She would observe the inevitable fall of Rick… the man who had bound together the band of misfits whom she called her family. And Carl, oh, god. _Carl_ -

 _"_ _I'll be seeing you…"_

Carl, he…

 _"In all the old…familiar places…"_

The soft sound of a lulling record had torn her out of the nightmare unfolding within her mind, only to paste her into a scene that she truly… should have assumed.

 _"That this heart of mine…embraces…"_

Women- five of them. All of them- beautiful, clad in tight-fitting black dresses and slick pairs of high heels, splayed comfortably- boredly- across onyx-colored leather sofas or perched upon bar stools, sipping alcohol from shot glasses. Maybe one or two playing cards, another reading, a pair huddled closely in a corner and speaking in hushed tones. All seductively calm- breathtaking. No blood, no screams, no terror…

 _"All day and through…"_

No Rick, no Glenn, no Maggie or Carl…

 _"In that small cafe…"_

Though, every pair of eyes had now befallen upon Lucille as soon as the entrance of her and Negan was made. It wasn't a grand one, definitely not noteworthy- hell, they had barely even made a noise- but it seemed to nearly knock each of the beautiful women back an inch as soon as their gaze fell upon her.

 _"_ _The park across the way…"_

"See." Negan purred, his upper body dipped down so that his mouth was level- and not to mention uncomfortably close- to her ear. "Fucking _famous._ "

 _"The children's carousel…"_

Famous.

Lucille thought to herself, her eyes going slightly out of focus as her gaze bore into the scantily-clad women only feet away from her. _I'd rather be dead._

"The chestnut trees…"

"Sherry," Negan started, his voice a foreign boom over the serenely-set area. However, despite the way that he had spoke the woman's name- so eerie and skin-crawlingly dark- Lucille felt her heart flutter. Sherry was someone that she was more than happy to encounter in this new and terrifying place- even if Negan had stuck his tongue down her throat. She was genuine and kind…something that this "Sanctuary" lacked severely. Therefore, the small girl was more than happy to cling to whatever miniscule bit of it that there was.

 _"The wishing well…"_

Lucille, forcing her eyes to concentrate and fight through her mental fog, searched the room of beautiful women until she was able to spot Sherry. The brown-haired _wife_ of Negan was standing behind the bar in the furthest right corner of the dimly-lit chamber, her eyes hard and mouth a taut line as she gazed across at the man addressing her. Sherry wasn't looking at Lucille- if anything she seemed to be avoiding it. She could only wonder why, and the those scenario's that the girl was all-too famous for began to run their wheel within her mind.

 _"I'll be seeing you…"_

"I can assume that you have already enlightened the other _wives_ of just who this mother fucking is."

 _"In every lovely summer's day…"_

 _ **Other wives.**_

 _"In everything that's light and gray…"_

Their beautiful, sensuous eyes wide with both amazement and terror…

 _"_ _I'll always think of you that way..."_

"But hell, she's just so damn jaw-dropping that I may as well inform you lovely ladies again!"

 _"I'll find you in the morning sun..."_

Lucille's heart began to thrum violently in her chest as Negan began to make his away around the wheelchair, a stray hand ghosting over the edge of her neck in a way that made her want to cower in fear. The sound of the dark man's matching combat boots seemed to fall into pace with the beats throbbing all the way up into her throat until one of them managed to lay themselves to rest.

 _"And when the night is new..."_

And sadly, it wasn't hers.

 _"I'll be looking at the moon..."_

"This, my lovely wives...this…," Negan thundered, his arms spread wide like the conductor of some sort of nightmaric orchestra and eyes beaming with the brightest darkness that she had ever witnessed in her life.

 _"But I'll be seeing..."_

"Is _my_ Lucille."

 _"You."  
_

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak.**

The scene unfolding within Negan's truck was a comical one.

Of course every scene involving him and the little blonde midget was hi-fucking-larious, anyone who saw the two stand side-by-side was well-aware of that. However, it was especially amusing when it involved the two of them hijacking a grocery store barefoot and ape-style for some cans of god damn deal-sealing peaches.

 _That_ was something that he really wished that someone had caught on camera. Funniest damn thing he'd ever witnessed in his life. After all, who would've expected someone as stiff as Lucille to tear off her clothes and actually _scale_ up the shelves in a grocery store? Not fucking Negan, that's fucking who. And he was sure that anyone who knew the blonde would say the same.

However, despite the absolute laughable _genius_ that was a mere five minutes ago for the two of them, the aftermath of said situation found itself tickling him even more.

Negan and Lucille- nonconsensual partners in crime and not to mention polar opposites- sitting in the front of his pick-up truck, soaked to the bone, the smaller- _much_ smaller- of the two still not wearing her shoes and socks perched cross-legged in the passenger seat with a plastic grocery bag full of peaches bundled into her lap. Her face was taut, unreadable and absolutely flushed beyond belief as she pouted in the exact opposite direction of the man less than a foot away from her- straight out the foggy, rain-streaked window. Meanwhile, Negan himself was smirking uncontrollably as he eyed the child-like girl at his side.

She was so unintentionally hilarious that he couldn't fucking stand it. He was sure that anyone else would view Lucille's current demeanor as anything but humorous, but for Negan… it was comedic _gold_.

Maybe it was because she was just so fucking fun to tease or because he could get the most otherworldly reactions from her with just the tiniest prod. It also didn't hurt that she was absolutely fucking adorable, but that was besides the point.

Torment for him had little to do with looks and more to do with the unconditional suffering of his victim. Having those delicious big brown eyes, pouty rose-colored lips and beet-red cheeks to reward him as well as her distress was merely a bonus.

Okay, maybe a big bonus, but still only a bonus nonetheless.

"Hey, ankle biter," Negan piped up, his insides dancing as his crude nickname earned an immediate glare from the girl beside him, "Don't be so fucking stingy and pass me one of those cans of peaches. I'm the one who bought them after all."

Lucille, her pale face contorting with something absolutely abhorrent and adorable, remained still and silent before wrenching her chocolate gaze away from his and down to the plastic bag in her lap. A tiny hand crept its way out from beneath the sleeve of her rain-soaked sweater before slithering into the translucent grocery bag and fastening itself around a can far too big for her grasp. The girl then slowly retracted her arm from the carrier before simply rolling the peaches across the seat in Negan's direction without another glance.

And damn, he could not help but laugh.

It wasn't one from deep within his gut that echoed within the small confines of his Ford, nor was it a mere snicker, but it was enough to earn him yet another absolutely delicious glance of scorn from the one and only Lucille. Part of him felt bad for pissing the poor little blonde fairy off so much today, but hell, he really couldn't refrain from it.

The fact that someone like her could be so petty and childish one moment and then so serious in the next just tickled something deep within him that had been dormant for quite some time. She was entertaining and completely and uncontrollably humorous without even trying to be- or even _wanting_ to be. Lucille could be the complete opposite of who she was three seconds ago, but still somehow _so Lucille_ that it left his head spinning. It was mind-boggling and confusing- a whiplash- but of course, like he said, god damn entertaining to no end. Just the way he liked it.

Forcing himself to muffle his laughter, Negan reached out to grasp the can of fruit a few inches away from him, allowing himself to ogle a bit more at the fitful blonde beside him. And in typical Lucille fashion, with no surprise to Negan himself whatsoever, she was pouting defiantly and oh, so adorably from her little corner of his pickup.

 _De-fucking-licious._

"Lu-cille!" The man suddenly exclaimed, snapping his arm back so that the peaches were now in his own lap, "You truly are one amusing piece of mother fucking work if I do say so myself, sweetheart."

The girl, whose head had wrenched uncomfortably to face him after his very abrupt address moments ago, gave him a look of bewilderment before her eyebrows began to furrow in that way that was just so _Lucille._

Once again, how he somehow knew what just so god damn qualified as "Lucille", he will never know.

"I mean," Negan continued, a smirk dancing on his lips as his hand began to fish around in the pocket of his rain-covered leather jacket, "Who else would actually put up with this type of bullshit other than you?"

The blonde seemed taken aback for a moment, her eyes widening in a manner that for a second actually made him feel a bit guilty for being such a jack ass towards her. Her gaze subtly drifted away from his own and out the window before seeming to cloud and glass over. She was a silent for a few more seconds, though eventually, she spoke.

"That is…" Lucille began softly, her fingers beginning to fidget with the sodden wool of her sweater, "something not a-all too foreign for me."

Raising a brow in question at her strange quiery, Negan pulled his hand from the pocket, brandishing a polished silver switch blade, "Care to infer upon that strange fucking statement, Lucille?" He then asked, preparing to use his tool to open the can of peaches when the sound of vicious rustling shot through his ears.

The man turned to his right to see Lucille, her eyes wider than he had ever witnessed before, coiled in upon herself with her legs facing him, one hand on the door handle, and the other grasping the upholstery of his Ford. Her cherubic face was plastered with a look of pure terror; skin pale- somehow even paler than usual, her plump lips forming a mortified 'O' shape, and her eyes reflecting back at him with this look of absolute…

"The hell is your problem, Casper?" Negan scoffed, driving the razor-edged tool into the can of peaches.

 _...Betrayal_ _?_

Lucille, remaining completely silent, slowly shifted her petrified gaze from the knife that was embedded in the aluminum can before gradually- hazily, even- returning to Negan's eyes. The girl seemed to be in some sort of catatonic shock almost. Her eyes were clouded with this fog of what he could only describe as pure terror and disbelief- all of which was directed solely at him.

Lucille's gaze was unwavering as it bore back into him, her tiny hands curled tightly around the handle of his truck and her body tense with rigidity- almost as if she was bracing for some sort of atta-

And suddenly, realization hit Negan like a freight train.

A very _amusing_ freight train.

"Ho- _ly_ shit you thought..." He began, a devious smirk playing on the man's lips as he pointed the knife playfully in her direction, "I was going to fucking stab you, shorty?"

The girl swallowed hard, her deathly-pale cheeks now blossoming into a vibrant pink as her bare toes curled inwards. Those big brown Bambi eyes of hers now refused to greet his own.

"Son of a three-balled bitch! You really thought I was going to filet you like Christmas dinner, Lucille?!" Negan burst out, his laughter yet again uncontainable due to this midget's antics, "Fucking priceless!"

The small girl, obviously embarrassed due to her own foolish- yet reasonable- assumption, puffed out her cheeks in annoyance at his mocking and turned her head away from the man, crossing her arms over her chest.

Negan snickered and turned his attention back to the can of fruit in his hands, directing his knife around the final edges so that he could easily peel off the jagged aluminum lid to reveal the prize inside.

And _damn_ , did they look fine as ever!

Coiled upon themselves in a sweet, orange syrupy bath of heaven were five to six plump peach slices looking as if they were about to burst they were so ripe.

The _perfect_ god damn deal-sealer if he said so himsel-

"Y-You just carry a pocket knife around with you everywhere?"

 _There she is_.

A smirk of pleasure that Negan found himself trying to hold back managed to slip through his defenses at the sound of her soft, curious voice intruding his through his scheming thoughts.

Something he hated to admit and was forcing himself to ignore ever since he and this girl had first encountered one another was surfacing slowly.

There's just this...undeniable triumph that Negan couldn't help but to feel whenever she came crawling back to him. Whether it was out of desperation, curiosity or even anger, he simply reveled in it. He just wasn't able to get enough of her _needing_ him for something.

The manager position, the ride home, to quench her wonder!

It was all too _fucking_ good.

"You can never be too careful in this world, my dearest Lucille." Negan said promptly, reaching his arm across the seat to offer her the can of peaches.

 _ **She**_ _was contingent on his very existence._

"You never know what can happen."

 _ **She**_ _was at his disposal._

The blonde blinked at the man, a look that was pale and thoughtful etching her angel-like face. She seemed to hesitate, those eyebrows of hers creasing in that way that was- you guessed it- so god damn _Lucille_.

 _ **She**_ _was dependent on him.  
_  
"C'mon blondie, let's sign this contract once and for all. You and me, Negan and Lucille. We'll be heroes, kid! Spoken of in song and legend! We'll lead these mother fuckers to regionals no matter how high those jockstraps are wedged up their asses." Negan exclaimed, inching the can of peaches in his hand all the more closely to the girl tucked in upon herself in the corner of his ford. "Take the _poisonous fruit,_ Lu- _cille_."  
 _ **  
She** was sealing the deal._

Lucille's eyes slowly- placidly- traveled up from Negan's hand so that those chocolately depths could succumb to his dark own. Her brows raised slightly at their connection, though for once her gaze did not divert itself away from the domineering pupils that seared into her soft face like a branding iron. For once she met his dominance unperturbed and with tranquility.

 _ **She**_ _was forfeiting herself._

With trust.

 _ **Lucille**_ _…_

She reached forward, her tiny hand enveloping the cold aluminum beholding their future, fingertips brushing his.

 _ **She**_ was **his**.

* * *

.

.


	8. Chapter 8

**~Dog Teeth: Chapter#8~**

* * *

 **Series:** The Walking Dead  
 **Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing:** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note : **a nice long chapter for all of those of you who have been waiting patiently for my updates. thank you so much for reading my writing, it means the world to me. this story will be picking up soon and is nowhere close to being over, thank you.  
 **Please: ** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve.  
 **Thank you!: ** A super special thank you to all of the reviewers and for over 130 followers and for over 100 favorites!  
 **ATTENTION: IN SEARCH OF BETA/PROOFREADER:** Whatever that you'd like to call it really! I am in search of a beta reader/proofreader that I can send my newest (and even old chapters!) to for them to review and correct. I do it myself each time before I post, but I always end up overlooking lots of mistakes that I make and I am usually too lazy to go back and fix them. So if anyone would be interested in such please send me a PM or let me know in your review or something please. You will receive credit posted on each chapter that you proofread and review. Also, please be able to provide me with some sort of document that shows your grammar skills and such- it doesn't have to be anything perfect! I know I sure am not, but I just want to be sure that you're someone who can catch and correct my mistakes if possible! Thanks!

* * *

 _"you are ever  
_ _the only one_

 _i want to give  
_ _all the peaches  
_ _in my heart to_

 _the only one  
_ _by whom  
_ _i want them bruised."_

 _-Sanober Khan_

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

All five women- all beautiful, all staring at her, all _married_ to Negan- had their eyes sewn into her flesh.

Not one blinked, not one moved a muscle… but they all _stared_.

She was the barely-breathing bunny that the alpha male of their wolf pack had drug back to their den as a trophy to his triumph. Her white fur was tainted red with his victory and his glistening smirk told the entire story without a single word. She was his prize, his bragging rights- the shiny gold medal that hung around his neck for all to see. For all of his pack to strain their necks at and widen their eyes over.

Screaming and crying, kicking and flailing, in her unconscious mind he brought her here. Canines fastened into her hind leg as tiny, blunt claws made miniscule, rebelling lines with long, repressed stories written within them scored the ground in protest.

He'd brought her here for his pleasure, for their public viewership. For them to question, for them to want, for them to marvel.

For them to _fear._

And thus, they _gawked,_ they _scrutinized,_ they _hungered._

They _feared._

All of the strange, uncharted persons that had swallowed her up with their astonished, terror-filled gazes during their trek from the infirmary to Negan's _den._

The walls, the windows, the mice in the ceiling.

The beautiful redhead, the teary-eyed blonde, and the two brunettes- one deviously voluptuous and the other soft-faced.

Even Sherry, the one familiarity in this room of blank faces, was enamored and inexplicably mystified with her very presence.

Her.

Lucille.

The girl she was- the one who didn't even reach five feet, the one who cried over the commercials about the dogs and cats in animal shelters seeking donations.

The one who Negan had claimed to be _famous_ around here- the _queen_ of The Sanctuary. She was known by many and feared by all. She was his _queen_. She was _his._

She was _Negan's-_ in his eyes, and theirs.

Where that assumption and Lucille's infamy itself came from was still completely unbeknownst her and was most certainly _false._

She belonged to someone though. And he belonged to her. A man in the past whom she guessed died along with the rest of the old world, taking with him a plethora of memories that she kept locked within her heart for countless years, and leaving only a shell filled with an ugly wolf disguised as him.

She was Negan's, but not _this_ Negan's.

Nonetheless, each wife, even though they were also _his,_ seemingly viewed her as Negan's property as well. Almost as if the man had written _"PROPERTY OF NEGAN"_ across her forehead in bold, black permanent marker.

Suddenly, Lucille's heart leapt into her throat- and not in a good way. The revelation that had snuck up upon her was ugly and brooding. One with fangs and bad breath- an intense hunger for her own fear and disgust.

 _These women… consider her one of them?_

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Negan purred and rounded his way about the wheelchair, warm hands trailing softly around the hem of her neck as he went, "An absolute _fucking_ masterpiece."

 _A piece of art for them all to marvel._

The dark man grinned sadistically as he made his way to the bar in the far right corner where Sherry was perched upon a stool, eyes never leaving the handicapped blonde.

 _A stolen painting for them all to congratulate him on._

" _Lucille_ is going to be staying with us from now on." Negan continued, his smirk nearly twitching as he spoke the last word.

The girl felt her stomach recoil at his words.

So, that really _was_ his plan after all.

To keep her locked up here in this callous compound against her will for his own awe and pleasure. So that he could try and skip down memory lane and forcefully drag Lucille and her feelings along with him. So that she would be _his_ again.

Oddly enough, being fed to walkers or disemboweled with a rusted, raw-edged spoon seemed more desirable than what Negan had in mind.

"So, I expect you to treat her as you would…" The alpha male paused, pouring one of the countless bottles of liquor into a shot glass, "…my _other_ Lucille."

And once again, she was nearly experiencing whiplash due to another sudden stupor spoken by Negan himself.

 _His_ other _Lucille?_

What other Lucille in the world would have the awful luck of crossing paths with this leather-clad psychopath? What even were the odds of such a revolting coincidence?

Nevertheless, all of Negan's awestruck brides were nodding their heads obediently at his words, as if the mention of a second Lucille that was also branded _"Property of the Tall Narcissistic Man-Child"_ was as everyday as daisies.

It was news to _her._

And frankly, it made her even more angry and confused than before.

Who was this other Lucille? How did she find Negan- or more likely, how did _he_ find _her_? Did she come willingly? Does she know a way out of here? Did she actually _like_ Negan? Did she also loathe her mother for naming her after fifties sitcom?

And most importantly: If Negan had this other Lucille, why the hell did he need her too?

Snapping from her questions and thoughts as she felt the air shift around her, the blonde's eyes quickly came into focus and nearly sent her into a third coma when she realized that the dark madman himself was now kneeling in front of her.

 _When did he get so stealthy?_ She seethed silently, meeting his amused gaze with a hard one.

"You seem a bit out of it, Lucille." Negan cooed, his teeth showing vibrantly through his salt and pepper facial hair, "I guess this is all a bit to take in after being fucking unconscious for a few days, huh? That's okay though, _love_ , we will be more than reacquainted soon enough."

God, she wanted to headbutt him so badly.

She wanted to kick and scream and make a scene until he took her back to Alexandria where she _belonged,_ not kept prisoner in this so-called "Sanctuary". She wanted to be far away from him and back to a time where she didn't know that he was still alive- that this side of him even existed. She just wanted to forget this entire ordeal and stop them all from stumbling into his trap in the first place. And even if she couldn't prevent this catastrophe from occurring, she really, _really_ wished that she could have at least delayed it.

Because as childish and naive as it was, she was heartbroken- shattered.

Because the man that she loved- her _first_ love, her _only_ love- was officially dead.

And he did not just _die-_ no, _god,_ no. He was murdered- _slaughtered_ \- by this imposter than was kneeling in front of her desolate, handicapped form at this very moment. The new world that grew around them grew inside of him as well, and it had claimed everything that she had held onto while she fought it off herself.

He was _gone._

There were officially no more "what ifs" or "maybes". There was no more wondering or dreaming left. There was no more hope left. There was no more _him_ left.

This new world had swallowed him right up and spit him back out into what it thought- no, it what it _knew_ \- would be fit to roam its rebirth.

So it rebirthed him.

And thus, reality was before her.

Baring its red-stained teeth right in her face.

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak.**

"You… You just carry a pocket k-knife around with you everywhere?"

A classic smirk played upon Negan's lips as Lucille came crawling back in curiosity once again.

Ever since their little shaking of hands and his revelation of exactly what his intentions were with this midget became clear, they had been relatively silent within the cab of his pick-up.

They simply were eating their peaches that she went all Godzilla in a grocery store for on their opposite sides of the long seat, seemingly paying little to no mind to one another. However, Negan's attention had been focused on the tiny blonde the entire time, much less to her own knowledge.

She was testily squeezing each plump piece of fruit between her nails- as they had forgotten to buy plastic utensils- seemingly unsure of what to think about her "meal".

Those goddamn deal-sealing peaches.

Those goddamn _fate_ -sealing peaches.

That's right; she had proven herself to him.

Little Lucille had gone above and beyond upon his request; and loyalty and obedience is _always_ rewarded.

Whether it be with the manager position of the mother fucking baseball team or his _undying_ infatuation with her, she would surely be given a treat for being such a good girl.

"You can never be too careful in this world, my dearest Lucille." Negan purred, pausing to take a bite out of a dripping peach slice, "You never know what can happen."

The blonde gave him a strange look, her eyebrows furrowing with a mixture of confusion and interest.

And fuck, would he always be on his knees ready to fulfill any of her concerns when it came to him. Lucille readily indulging herself in _him_ was always a fucking delight.

"So, you just… live your entire life paranoid of everyone that you encounter?"

Negan scoffed abruptly, choking down a laugh at the innocence of her mind.

Sometimes her naivety could be really fucking amusing.

Or, well, really it always was.

Sure, it would get in the way of a few of his plans, but it was one of those things that had its own pros and cons. Negan, though, was primarily able to indulge himself in the pros of her innocence. For example: this little shit has no idea that he has wholly intentions of fucking her brains out when she turns of legal age. Absolutely no god damn clue. Which is a good thing because he is entirely positive that she would literally fall unconscious for six months upon such a revelation.

Also, somehow- miraculously really- she is completely oblivious to the fact that she now is his despite the gravity-altering interaction in which they had just shared.

Nevertheless, she was still young and pretty obviously inexperienced when it came to interacting with such… vulgar beings like himself.

"Nah, Lucille." Negan snickered, tossing his second empty can of the day into the shopping bag, "The ones that I worry about are the people that I _do_ know."

The girl shoots him a troubled glance, turning her body slightly more towards him with interest glittering in those big brown eyes.

 _Oh,_ fu- _ck_ **yes**.

"Don't get me wrong, the people that you don't know can be pretty fucking unpredictable and just as bat shit crazy as the others, but it is always those that you are familiar with that can get their hands around your throat far more easily."

Lucille, her nails ceasing their incessant prodding of the soft fruit between her fingertips, simply blinked at him with a sort of blank, drone-like expression. That look, he was beginning to pick up on, was her urging him to continue.

And, as always, Negan is more than happy to oblige.

"It's 'cause they're the ones that know all of your god damn secrets and weaknesses and shit. They know what gets under your fuckin' skin and how to get inside of your head." The man preached and shifted his eyes from the girl beside him to the rain-stained windshield at his front, his voice darkening in the slightest, "The people you know? Pshh. They may as well have a gun to your head for the rest of your god damned life."

 _Isn't that the truth._ Negan thought to himself bitterly as his words began to cause old memories to surface.

Of course, being a man of his late forties people had done him dirty plenty. Some of the betrayals hurt more than others and some of them still left him reeling. People- especially the ones closest to you- really could be assholes.

But he certainly wasn't the one to talk.

If anything, he was the worst person alive- especially when it came to the art of loyalty and morals. Negan honestly couldn't recount one thing that he was truly proud of doing. His marriage is a fucking joke, his job is vomit-inducing, his social life is down the drain, and now here he is.

Planning to defile the underaged daughter of his affair and manipulate her into anything that he can with the promise of service learning hours.

Now _that_ even made _him_ cringe.

And he really wasn't a person that could recoil easily.

But her? Lucille? The pale midget whose face is beet red ninety percent of the fucking time?

His gaze slowly shifted back to the object of his guilt, mind muddled with thoughts foreign to him until he was met with a look he had yet to see on this strange, blonde alien's face before.

And honestly, it fucking wiped the slate of his mind clean.

Lucille- the Lucille who was always only either about to suffocate due to embarrassment or was going drill holes through you with that dark, unreadable glare- was looking at him as if she were genuinely impressed.

Her chocolate moons were widened to dinner plates, her eyebrows were raised at an astounding height, her cheeks were sucked in slightly and her plump, pink lips were agape in awe.

And if Negan was being honest, her shock _shocked_ him.

Who the fuck knew this crazy little Martian had more than two emotions?

"The hell is that look for?"

Almost as if his words- regrettably- brought her back to reality, the blonde quickly clamped her pert mouth shut, however her eyebrows stayed high upon her forehead.

"Just… surprised me to hear something so philosophical come from that sailor mouth of yours." Lucille murmured, eyes wide.

To this Negan feels himself smirking, his pride swelling almost painfully at the fact that she was impressed with him.

"Despite what your little mind may think, _Lucille_ , I am quite the intellectual."

The blonde shot him an amused look and rebuttled, "For a man who is a high school gym teacher I assume that statement to be quite untrue."

Well, _fuck._

He'd be the biggest fucking liar alive if he tried to say that _that_ hadn't taken a brutal shot at his ego.

And honestly, it really fucking annoyed him. How could this child-sized teenager have the ability to make him feel ten feet tall, only to make him feel like he was barely two feet five minutes later? Of course, people had embarrassed or belittled him before, he was an overly-confident asshole after all. But when someone like _Lucille-_ someone so timid, naive and shy- is able to scale his wall of pride like it's a mere bump in the road so easily and so _abruptly…_ it really made him think.

"Maybe not book-smart Lucille, but I have the street-smarts that any bastard nowadays would kill for." Negan defended matter-of-factly, "People seem to have very little common fucking sense these days."

The girl simply raises an eyebrow at him, providing no verbal response once again to his clarifications, before lifting a peach to her pouty lips to nibble on.

 _Fucking insane._

Maybe he _really_ did underestimate who she was underneath all of that blonde hair and innocence.

Upon this revelation, Negan found himself focused on keeping their conversation going, eager to discover more that this strange short entity was hiding beneath the surface. Not to mention he just also really hates silence- it bores the absolute fuck out of him.

"And what the hell happened to that godforsaken stutter of yours? It seems to have fucking vanished- or at least taken a short leave." The dark man prodded, his stomach bubbling giddily as the girl shifted her attention back to him, "You getting comfortable with me or something?"

If he was being honest, he liked her stutter. Even if it was nice to hear her speak so clearly, it was one of those things that she did that made him feel ten feet tall. And _fuck_ , did he love to feel like he hovered six feet over her.

Even though he kind of already did without even trying, literally.

Lucille, retracting the barely-bitten fruit from her lips, shifted her gaze to the side as a troubled look crossed her features.

"Comfortable isn't the word I would use."

"How about absolutely taken with?" Negan smirked, watching as the blonde's cheeks blossomed red and her brown slits glared at him from the corner of her eye.

"N-No. Not even close." Lucille growled softly in response.

Feeling his eyes lighting up as her stutter resurfaced, he felt his confidence continuing do the same.

"Oh? Then please do mother fucking enlighten me on what it just may fucking be!"

Pursuing her lips with irritation, Lucille let out a troubled sigh before turning her entire body towards the man, her eyes surprisingly settling so that they bore directly into his.

And that _really_ took him aback.

There were very few people in this world who could meet his glare and not flinch away. Even this girl's indignant, loudmouth mother would falter under his stare if he pierced her ferociously enough.

And Lucille- this mind-fucking midget- was also like that.

Completely and unconditionally cowering under his gaze.

So, what is this?

All the sudden she's grown a pair? Or had she just had him fooled all along?

The fidgeting, stuttering, red-faced blonde baby…

 _Fucking Christ._

…Was staring him down.

Negan stared back at her tautly, doing his best to hide the overwhelming incredulity. The last thing he really wanted was for the girl to think that she had some sort of power over him.

Not that she did- of course, obviously- but he didn't want any crazy ideas dancing around in that pretty little head of hers.

No one had control of him- never had, never will.

Hell, if he was being honest, he barely had control over himself.

"Different people…" Lucille began, big brown eyes burning through his corneas and straight to his soul, "bring out different sides of you."

 _What?_

After all that indignation and tension…

What the fuck is she even talking about?

"D-Don't you think?" The blonde stuttered, her eyes beginning to drawl away from his own, however she seemed to be fighting it the best that she could.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Negan dead-panned.

Lucille's eyes then snapped straight back to his own, a look of fiery exasperation lacing her soft features. She looked pretty damn peeved.

He didn't really understand- he genuinely did not comprehend what the fuck she was getting at. Maybe he had been relatively rude when addressing her query, but still. The man was always a jack ass, so what's the issue?

"You're denser than I thought." Lucille huffed, turning her body so that she once again faced the windshield.

Yet again, another low-blow to his fucking ego.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Negan scoffed, offended.

The man watched as the blonde's tiny fists clenched the can of peaches tightly, knuckles glaring white back at him. Her eyebrows were furrowed defiantly upon her small forehead and her button nose was wrinkled with fury- both trademark Lucille mannerisms for when she was about to throw a tantrum.

"Y-You're trying to tell me that you act the same way around everyone in your life? You cuss and talk about… about… indecent things to just anyone? Your personality doesn't shift to a different setting when you're around someone you hate? It's just the same as when you're around someone that you love? Y-You're just a jack ass to everyone?!"

And there it was.

That outburst that he knew would erupt from that tiny little body of hers sooner than later. It was about something completely different than he thought it would be, but nonetheless he still called it.

And _fuck_ , was it delicious as ever.

Negan couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as he marveled at the fuming baby-faced girl huffing and puffing at him only two feet away. He really had hit the jackpot when it came to this mystical teenaged creature.

She was bipolar as hell in the most adorable kind of way.

She was bipolar as hell because _he_ could send her emotions spiraling out of control with just five fucking words.

He could just play her like a violin. Stroking every string so tenderly, eliciting the sweetest sounds from her until he pressed one strand just a tad too hard, causing her to screech in a way that only he could.

"You called me a jack ass." Negan pointed out giddily, every single one of his teeth showing with pride.

And it all just made him want to push that tiny body of hers down into the damp upholstery of his truck bench and bury himself inside of her until she split in two.

"B-Because you are one! Y-You're a dense, narrow-minded, jack ass!" Lucille cried out, her face turning red for an entirely new reason.

The man's smile fell from its throne and into a scowl.

"Well, that's a bit fucking rude."

"R-Rude?! You threatened me into your truck and then made me scale a wall for a can of peaches when you could have easily reached them yourself!" The blonde exclaimed, her body shifting so that she was now sitting on her knees and facing him in contempt, "E-Ever since I met you, you've been nothing but rude!"

"I beg to fucking pardon, Lucille. If I recall correctly you shoved her tiny blonde mess of curls into my lower fucking abdomen when we first met." Negan growled angrily, though inside he was absolutely jumping for joy, "And then you nose-dived into your bedroom without even fucking apologizing to me!"

 _His_ little Lucille was getting all worked up just for him.

"Oh, grow up! I-I apologized to you!" Lucille sneered, her body inching slightly forward in heated fury.

 _Fuck, god, yes._ _ **Come**_ _to me baby._

"Y-You shouldn't have even been in my house in the first place!"

"I am an honored guest, thank you very fucking much." The dark man jabbed, raising an eyebrow in accusation.

"I beg to differ."

"Your mom doesn't."

At that she flinched.

A straight fist to the stomach, hand to the throat, foot to the nuts flinch.

Lucille's face fell the moment he chimed the words, paling with every second that passed and yeah, he had to admit…

He regretted it.

Negan was enjoying their playful banter- whether it was viewed that way was one-sided or not, he didn't really care. He was having fun either way and the tiny terror seemed to enjoy getting all of this bullshit off of her chest even if she was all riled up.

"T-That was a low-blow." She spat, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger.

"Oh, please. You've been dealing them since the moment you got in this truck, doll." Negan snickered, eyes devouring the crestfallen angel on his truck bed.

"E-Even for y-you… that's low."

"Aw…" The man cooed, his eyes barely able to retain their focus as he ogled the center of his sudden obsession coiling into herself in front of him, "How about I fucking make it up to you?"

"Y-You can do that by taking me home." The tiny blonde hissed, blinking back the obvious tears that she was failing miserably to hide.

"Nah, that's o-fucking-kay." Negan purred, watching as a look of aggravation overtook her, "How about instead you explain it to me."

And suddenly, as always, little Lucille was overwhelmed by yet another emotion that dominated her very being all because of _him_. How she didn't have whiplash at this point, he would never know.

She was bewildered- puzzled.

Because of _him._

"W-What?" Lucille stammered, those big brown moons blinking with confusion.

"That shit about people bringing out different personalities in you and all. Whatever you were moaning on about and got all pissed and threw a tantrum over because I didn't fucking comprehend it due to my dense, narrow, jack ass of a mind." Negan explained, "Your words, not mine."

The blonde stared back at him in incredulous silence, mouth gaping slightly in astonishment. She said nothing- did nothing, as a matter of fact- just merely marveled at him as if he was the alien sitting in the truck.

Well, he hated to break it to her, but she by far the extraterrestrial being that was residing within this shitty ass vehicle.

She was the one who could be nearly on the verge of passing out due to embarrassment, then suddenly she's screaming in his face and calling him a jack ass and then the next minute she's about to cry, _then_ she's in some sort of catatonic awe and _now_ she's smiling at him with some sort of warm look that makes him want to bury his face between her thighs.

 _She's_ the crazy one here. _She's_ the one who is most definitely from another planet.

"You really _are_ dense." Lucille the Alien giggled softly.

"Excuse me?"

"You already comprehend it, jack ass."

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

All she wanted to do was cry.

Scream.

Whatever she could do to try and make this all go away.

To make _him_ , whatever he was now, go away.

Make him go away so that she could hold onto her memories and her hope and her happiness that had been her lifeline for long.

Only for him to severe that lifeline with a mere smirk that was what had kept her afloat.

The irony itself could kill her.

"We'll get you nice and cleaned up and then you can rest for a bit, sound good?" The man purred, his gloved hand snaking its way up her neck so that he could cradle her head in his hand, "Like I said, after such a long day you must be exhaus-"

 _'Knock.'_

'Knock.'

She wanted to cry out for help- scream at the absolute top of her lungs for whoever it was behind that door to save her.

But she knew that they wouldn't.

It was just another one of Negan's _slaves_ that wouldn't dare to disobey him- let alone help her escape his torture, she knew.

No one here would.

No one here _could_.

God only knows what Negan would do if they tried to separate him from her now.

It would be like trying to snatch a toddler's favorite toy before laying them down to nap.

Glancing over her shoulder warily, Lucille swallowed hard before quickly turning back to Negan, who still had his gaze boring into her.

The man raised his eyebrows at the girl and smirked deviously before calling out far too loudly, "Who is it?!"

His booming voice made her flinch and her stomach churn. He was far too close and far too loud for the state that she was in at this moment.

And the anxiety that all of these closed doors in his "lair" elicited from her didn't help one bit. Especially the one that for sure had someone or some _thing_ behind it.

All of those nightmarish possibilities from earlier began to play on repeat in her head before a voice finally replied with a name that her feel even more ill than before.

"Simon."

 _Kill me._

"Oh, come the fuck in."

 _ **Kill me.**_

Lucille's mind began to whirl as she vaguely recalled the faintest, groggiest memory of the name "Simon".

She had assumed that it was a hallucination rather than something that had actually happened, but the coincidence was too surreal for it to be just that.

Lucille recalled in her dream-like hazy state being clutched in someone's arms as her eyes fought to hone in on blurry outline of a man. It was about as difficult as trying to tie your shoes without any fingers, but nonethless she was able to make out a single distinct feature of this unknown man just as she heard Negan's voice in her dream call out the name "Simon".

A large, bushy mustache.

The same exact one that was glaring back at her as "Simon" walked nonchalantly through the door.

She wanted to vomit and she could feel her body trembling as she fought down the urge to do so.

"Shh, Lucille, baby." Negan cooed as he ran his thumb along the contours of her cheek, "No need to get so fucking worked up, love. I'm sure Simon was gentle enough with your friends."

The blonde wanted nothing more in that moment to turn her head to the side and take a chunk out of the man's hand like a walker, only to spit said chunk into Simon's face.

This was the man that _Negan_ ordered to do god knows what to her friends- her _family._

These men tag-teamed the demise of the ones that she loved most.

Negan and Simon.

The first had finally withdrawn from her, standing slowly so that he could make his way around the wheelchair in order to turn Lucille towards the righthand man in this entire hellish operation.

 _Simon._

Her eyes met his like gas to fire, igniting some sort of burning sensation in her belly as she took in every single one of his disgraceful features.

He was tall- not as tall as Negan, but only off by one or two inches- balding slightly with grayish-black hair and donning typical clothes and gear that anyone would nowadays: a khaki button-down shirt with a vest over it, faded green cargo pants, combat boots and numerous weapons and their holsters.

And, of course, that nightmarish mustache that rose with his face as an entertained grin overtook his features.

He let out a long, high-pitched whistle and placed his hands on hips in a way to show that he was impressed.

"So, this- _this_ is Lucille?" Simon asked, his teeth showing dangerously from beneath his trademark facial hair.

 _Why? Why is he impressed? Why are they_ all _so impressed?_

"You know, there was some mighty big talk about you nearly blinding uh, fuck, what's 'is name? William or something?"

Negan, letting out an amused chuckle and says, "Think it was Wyatt?"

To which Simon let out a laugh as well and remarked, "Hell if I know. Something with a-"

"Wade."

She remembered.

She remembered, but they couldn't?

 _ **"Fuck, Wade!"**_

Lucille could feel her nails sinking into his sockets, almost as if they were laying in the forest floor that very night right then. The chills still ran through her at the memory.

"H-His name… is Wade."

Her eyes slowly lifted so that she could see Simon's eyes- and she was sure everyone else's were the same as his- staring back at her in stupor with his mouth in a surprised line.

Everything remained absolutely silent and still before the mustached man suddenly burst out, "Fuck, I like her already! Can beat a dude's ass five times her size and still have the courtesy to call him by his name!" The man snickered as a taunting darkness lit up his gaze, "But sweetheart, don't ya know it's rude to not look at someone when you're talking to them?"

Feeling her jaw tighten at his words, Lucille immediately reverted her gaze back down to her hands, suddenly feeling dizzy at the very thought that she was before the very man who could have potentially slaughtered her family.

It is then she feels Negan's hands grasp her shoulders and squeeze them gently as he chimes in, "She seems to have picked up some rather fucking _distasteful_ habits from her good ole buddies back in Alexandria." His hands squeeze a bit more tightly before adding, "Snarky ass comments such as that seem to be one of them. And this _rudeness_..."

The dark man's hands travel up her neck and to her jaw so that he forces her to look up into the eyes of Simon. She takes in his features, feeling both anger and fear welling up inside of her as she glares into his twinkling eyes, imagining them with the same look as he annihilated everyone that she loved.

It's with this that an even wider grin spreads across Simon's face and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, causing her to flinch each time the shrill sound enters her ears.

"Ah! Speaking of the Alexandrians, you must have been _really_ good friends with Rick's kid, eh? He's been getting nice and feisty over you getting carted off to the Sanctuary and all. Threw a nice little tantrum and all."

At this Lucille feels her eyes widen and heartbeat begin to quicken at the mention of Carl; positive that Negan's fingers on her neck are able to feel the pulse thundering inside of her.

"That little shit was still screaming about her even after we left?" Negan chuckled, stroking her thrumming pulse in a way that made her squirm.

Nodding, Simon let out a guttural laugh, "Yeah, the way he was acting up after you two took off you'd of thought she'd been executed before his very eyes- or uh...eye."

The two men let out a bout of laughter at Simon's correction before the mustached of the two looked back down at her with curious eyes and queried, "Wonder why that is though, yeah? What's he your boyfriend or something, sweetheart?"

And there it was- the death grip.

As soon as Simon uttered the word "boyfriend" she felt Negan's hand clamp down on her shoulder like a feverish pitbull.

 _That'll leave a mark._

And even though she couldn't see the man's face, she was able to tell from Simon's change of demeanor and expression that Negan was no longer in a joking mood. If anything he was probably more pissed than ever at the thought of "his little Lucille" having the hots for someone other than him.

Not that she had any such type of feelings for Carl, but Negan could pull an affair out of anything and make it into a world-ending extravaganza when it came to her.

It was something he had _always_ been good at doing.

And it really, _really_ made her itch with vexation

"Ah..." Simon began uncomfortably, obviously searching for a way to diffuse the situation that he had created.

"Sherry." Negan interrupted gruffly, causing them all to freeze except for the very woman whom had had addressed.

The lithe woman simply turned so that she was facing Negan entirely and raised her brow, "Yes, Negan?"

"Take _Lucille_ here to my bathroom and help her take a fucking bath. I doubt she'll be able to do it on her own considering Warren fileted her god damn leg." The dark man demanded, his grip on her lessening slightly.

Sherry's eyes narrowed slightly before she replies with a simple, "Sure." and begins to make her way over to both her _husband_ and Lucille.

"Normally I would be more than happy to lend a hand, but Simon and I here have some business to take care of that concerns your friends, so sadly I have to let my little Lucille go for awhile." Negan explained, running his hand along her neck once more.

At his words, Lucille feels her body beginning to heat up with a vibrant blush, though she keeps her jaw clenched in order to prevent it from spreading. The last thing she wanted was for any of them- especially Negan- to think that he can control her actions with the simplest of words.

The dark man gave her neck a lingering pat before allowing Sherry to take the wheelchair, watching intently as the woman to begin to roll her to a door that was in the upper left corner of the room.

"Take care of my little Lucille, ya hear, Sherry?! I want her to get used to her new _home_."

* * *

She liked Sherry.

Honestly, she did.

The woman, despite following every single one Negan's orders at his very beckon and call, obviously had an indignant fire to her that gave her a bit of hope.

Sherry, unlike many things these days, also gave her a sort of comfort that was lacking profoundly in this newfound hell. She talked to her kindly and gently, almost as if she was talking to a small child- almost as if Lucille _were_ her child.

Before her bath, the woman helped her peel the uncomfortable hospital gown from her body. She had done it so gingerly that Lucille herself was beginning to believe that she was glass had it not been for the stark white gauze that stuck out from her skin like a sore thumb.

A painfully gruesome reminder that: "No, asshole, you're still crippled skin and bones."

And while that hurt, Sherry helped to remedy that with her reassuring words and soft voice.

Sherry was welcoming, and she was soothing to be around; she gave her a peace so genuine that it almost felt like she was in a different world while it was just the two of them inside of Negan's bathroom.

The woman _was_ her peace.

Sherry was a beacon in this place.

However…

"Negan won't make you do anything that you don't want to."

Sherry is also a liar.

Lucille wrenched away from the woman abruptly, her face contorted in both pain and disgust as her wounded leg begged for her sudden movements to cease. Her eyes met the other woman's with a look contempt that nearly made the brunette flinch.

A terrible one at that.

 _How could she say such a thing when…?_

Brown pools waded within one another as they eyed each other with expressions that couldn't be more different.

 _How_ _ **dare**_ _Sherry say such a thing when…?_

Sherry's face was twisted with a mixture of sorrow, regret and acknowledgement and all that Lucille could do was stare back at her with a petulant disbelief.

 _She knows that she's wrong._

"But yet, here I am, aren't I?"

 _After all, she is sleeping with him._

A small frown etched the woman's face as she cast her eyes to the ground in blatant remorse.

 _The man that they all want to kill._

Her heart ached.

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak**

"When you're with different people, you act differently."

 _ **"You already comprehend it, jack ass."**_

"I-It's almost as if they bring out an entire different personality that you never knew that you had…and you just kind of subconsciously mold yourself into how they make you feel…"

 _Oh, yeah._

"M-Maybe you do it because you want to be what you think that they'd like the most…what would make them the happiest…B-but…"

 _I get it._

"I feel as if really we do it because we can't contain the way that they make us feel. Then again, sometimes I believe it to be a completely unconscious act..."

 _Not always, but ever since I met you, Lucille…_

"They either make you so angry that you can't help but scream, yell and catch an attitude when you're around them!"

 _You bipolar, blonde, vertically-challenged alien…_

"Or so happy that you can't stop from over-analyzing every little thing that they do."

 _I get it._

"It all depends on who it is…I guess. How they make you feel and how you're able to handle it…"

 _I get it._

"A-Are you even listening?"

The man lowered his gaze so that he was once again glaring straight into the girl's eyes, a smirk spreading across his lips as he took in her troubled, pouting features.

 _I get you._

"Never stopped, doll."

 _ **I've got you.  
**_

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

Negan's room was just about how you'd imagine it.

Dark, black leather couches, a huge bed, hardwood floors, dim lighting.

So disgustingly, stereotypically Negan.

It made her sick.

When Sherry had first wheeled her through the room to lead her to the on-suite bathroom, she had refused to look at anything. She kept her eyes down the entire thirty seconds or so that it took them to reach the tub, too afraid of lifting her eyes and seeing the place where she knew she was going to be held _prisoner_.

It made her ill.

"These will have to do until Negan takes you down to the commissary to find some clothes your size." Sherry told her softly, unfolding a gray sweatshirt that was about three times too big for her.

 _That's if he will even let me out of here to go._

The woman signaled for her to lift her arms above her head and Lucille obliged, allowing the fluffy white towel around her torso to fall to her hips.

"There we go." Sherry sighed cheerfully, her eyes meeting the blonde's with a falsetto gleam before she turned to grab a pair of white cotton shorts from the dresser behind her.

At this, Lucille recoiled once again.

She could understand not receiving a bra, those- especially one that could comfortably accommodate her- were quite scarce these days. But no panties?

"I'm sorry…" The woman frowned, lifting one of the girl's bruised legs from the wheelchair seat gingerly, "This is all that they laid out."

Sherry really was setting her up to get screwed, wasn't she?

Lucille watched with glazed-over eyes as the woman slid the shorts up to her hips and wrinkled her nose in annoyance as they simply hung limp around her frame.

The blonde dead-panned, her eyes staring down at the fabric that refused to mold to her and felt her stomach twist with disgust. Back before the end of the world her hips always had a lovely swell to them- even _after_ the walkers took over she had adorned a lovely, curvaceous figure for someone so short. Despite being a tubby child, she had figured that she filled out nicely in the end. And even so, it took her awhile to come to terms with her body. She had always felt that someone of her stature should be more thin- less _voluptuous._ Apparently, she was wrong all along though. A certain ghost of her past had helped her come to be comfortable in her skin. A man that died with this world- with her heart.

However, for whatever time she had been forced to be in "The Sanctuary", the weight had been melting off her like snow in heat. She really had no idea for how long she was unconscious here for- maybe two or three days. But within those 72 hours she hadn't eaten, and the closest that she'd even been to food was when Negan had hurled that plate of enticing chicken at the wall.

 _Psychopath._ She thought with disgust.

"There we go." Sherry sighed happily, her eyes studying her fine work around the blonde's hips.

Lucille looked down to see that the woman had tightening the tie along the waistband of the shorts to a miniscule circumference before fastening it into a secure bow. The shorts still did not fit; however they were no longer falling off of the poor girl- to which she was thankful for.

"All set then." The woman smiled, smoothing down Lucille's hair with a gentle palm before beginning to wheel her towards the king-sized mattress a few feet from where they were.

At this, her heart jumped into her throat.

"No." Lucille whispered, panic beginning to overwhelm her.

 _This can't be happening._

"Luci-." Sherry began, her hand reaching for the girl's shoulder comfortingly.

 _He wouldn't._

"No, no, no!" The blonde shrieked, wrenching her body painfully away from the touch of the other woman.

 _Would he?_

"Lucy, calm down." The brunette resonated calmly and rounded the wheelchair to crouch at her front.

 _He would._

Her kindness, her reassurance, that **bath.** None of it was genuine, it was just her following her beloved husband's orders, wasn't it? All of it was just for Negan. All of it was so that he could fulfill all those lewd promises he had been making since they reunited. All of this was to get her ready for **him**.

"No!"

"He won't." Sherry told her consolingly, her long fingers coming up to cradle the terrified girl's face in her hand.

"He will." Lucille whimpered, he lower lip trembling as tears threatened to flow from her eyes, "He will."

"Negan isn't like that. He doesn't force things like that, I promise."

 _Stop lying, stop lying, stop_ _ **lying**_

"He's forced me here, hasn't he?" The blonde spat, her glistening eyes narrowing to abhorrent slits, "Into his bedroom, locked away from everyone else. From everyone that I love. What's to stop him there?"

"He has rules here- Negan has _morals._ " Sherry promised, her eyes fighting their own battle of emotions as she forced a genuine smile upon her lips.

"Morals?" Lucille scoffed bitterly, the tears finally spilling over and down her cheeks, "Morals? You're his _wife._ All of those women out there are his _wives._ That blonde girl was crying- you, that redheaded woman and all of the others look at him with _disgust_ and _hatred._ "

Hearing the girl's words, Sherry remained silent.

"No one looks at a man with morals like that unless you're the one lacking morale yourself." The girl uttered intensely, her gaze molding with Sherry's, "And you have them, Sherry. I know you do. Because I know who he is now, I can _see_ it. He's a monster."

The brunette remained silent for a few moments, seemingly fighting a losing battle with herself before promising solemnly, "I won't let him."

 _You liar._

Lucille wanted to believe her so badly.

 _You couldn't stop him if you tried._

She wanted to have some sort of hope, some sort of _faith_.

 _None of us could._

But how could she trust someone to stand up to Negan for her, when they couldn't even stand up to him for themselves?

 _So save your lies for someone that can stomach them._

Sherry then stood slowly, her eyes downcast in pain as she rounded the wheelchair and began to finish their short trek to Negan's king-sized coffin.

 _Because my belly feels as if it's about to burst.  
_

* * *

 ** _Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak_**

"Hey kid," Negan interjected the silence abruptly, causing the blonde to jolt with surprise before slowly turning her head to face him.

After Lucille's little Dr. Phil moment where she essentially explained how everyone has a multiple personality disorder, the two had fallen into a comfortable silence.

You heard correctly, a _comfortable_ silence.

None of that stiff, boring, awkward bullshit that they usually experienced after trailing away from a topic. But genuine, tranquil silence.

And for once, Negan didn't even mind it despite typically loathing silence as much as overacted porn.

The fake screams and over-the-top moans really are a turn off.

Nonetheless, he was actually enjoying their residual peace before- like most times- his thoughts got the best of him.

And he wasn't going to just let them go to waste.

Especially not when he had little Lucille around to tend to them.

"So what's the matter with Tuesdays?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the girl's head flew up so that she could glare at him with wide, terrified eyes.

 _Well, I wasn't expecting that type of response._

She looked almost as if he had physically grabbed her by the neck and then slapped her square across the face.

 _The fuck?_

"N-Nothing." Lucille muttered after a few seconds of fumbling with her words, her eyes diverting to stare out of the passenger side window.

Negan, raising an unconvinced eyebrow at the blonde, prods, "Nothing, huh?"

Lucille nodded fervently in response, peering at him intently from the corner of her eye.

"Well, it sure as hell didn't seem like nothing when you damn near pissed your pants in my office when I told you what day that it was." The man snorted, leaning against the steering wheel, "Or when your eyes practically popped out of your fucking skull fifteen seconds ago."

Negan watched as she fidgeted for a moment or so before replying with a simple, "It's nothing."

"I remain severely uncon-fucking-vinced, Lucille."

"W-Well, I don't need to convince you of anything." The blonde retorted and turned her head entirely so that she was no longer facing him.

A devious smirk spread across Negan's lips, his face darkening with a telltale horror that he was sure would make her shiver.

"Lucille," Negan snickered and reached into the grocery bag at his feet so that he could pull out another can of peaches, causing the girl's head to turn towards him at the rustling of the plastic.

She blanched at his expression.

"You really are forgetful little shit."

And narrowed her eyes indignantly.

"You already are ignoring our friendship that I thought was _blossoming_ oh, so beautifully." Negan pouted, fighting back a laugh as he watched an expression of surprise seize the small girl, "Friends tell each other what's on their mind, don't they? Friends tell each other the _truth_."

"M-Maybe so." Lucille murmured, her cheeks puffing out in the way that they did when she got frustrated, "B-But you're not entitled to any of my business."

Negan's grin could only stretch wider.

"Maybe _so_ ," Negan mocked the girl, watching with glee as her thick eyebrows furrowed with defiance, "But if you and I are gonna get along and actually fucking make this service learning hour bullshit _work_ , we're gonna have to actually _talk_ about things. Ya know, like fucking normal people."

"None of this is what normal people do." Lucille retorted, crossing her arms over her chest like a spoiled child.

"Whataya mean? Plenty of kids manage the god damn baseball team and hang out with the coach on occasion. Stop acting like we're committing a crime or some shit, kid."

"Hanging out with your mother's a-affair? That's normal to you?" The blonde growled in response.

"Is that all I am to you, Lucille? The guy your mom is fucking behind your dad's back?" Negan questioned, raising a brow at the girl in offense.

"Should you be anything more?"

The man let out a hearty, amused laugh before a pleased sigh.

 _Naughty, spoiled brat._

"I mean, I am the guy who not only forgave you for ramming your skull into my abdomen, but I am also the guy who gave you the opportunity to earn some of those cock-sucking service learning hours that your mother was about to drive into your ass over. Not to mention, _I_ am the one who stopped her from doing such a very fucking thing." Negan explained matter-of-factly, his eyes gleaming with triumph, "I _also_ gave you pretty damn good scapegoat so that you could slip away from Ted Bundy Jr. back there _and_ despite you giving me an attitude ever since you entered this goddamn truck, I _still_ bought your little dwarf ass some mother fucking _peaches_! So _please,_ Lu- _cille_ , tell me why in the holy hell I shouldn't be more than just the guy who drills into your mom like jolly old jackhammer every few days?"

At this, the girl simply glared back at him with those beautiful Bambi eyes narrowed to slits, completely silent as her entire body emitted an aura of pure, abhorrent frustration and fury.

And _fuck,_ did her sweet face look so absolutely fuckable when it was red with rage and contorted with contempt.

She was beyond pissed, and he was beyond hard.

 _ **My**_ _naughty, spoiled brat._

The perfect pair.

"That guy I was with," Lucille spoke abruptly, her face slowly softening and accepting her defeat, "he was an assistant in the counselor's office last year who helped to handle service learning hours and such. He's completing an internship for college at our school now…he's there every Tuesday."

Negan leaned back in his seat as he turned his face towards the windshield, feeling unbelievably fucking stupid.

Of course, it had to do with that fucker.

Why wouldn't it? He was practically breathing down Lucille's neck by the time he had stumbled across the two.

"I was trying to avoid him. I didn't want to have to go and get the papers from the office because I knew that he would be there today."

Negan scoffed, "Well, sweetheart, you did a pretty bad fucking job at skirting around his ass. He was practically undressing you by the time I rode up."

Lucille's face lit up like a Christmas tree at his words, her tiny hands wringing together with discomfort as she obviously sifted through what he had said in her mind.

"Did he follow you or something? Or did you just suck it up and go to the office and he insisted on being all fucking gentlemanly and walking you home?" Negan queried, feeling a slight bit of unbridled fury brew within him.

"A-A little bit of both, I guess." The blonde whispered, eyes staring down at her twiddling thumbs, "I-I refused, really. But h-he insisted, and I doubt he would've taken no for an answer anyways…"

Okay, now he was genuinely fucking pissed.

What did this little four-eyed fuck think he was up to? Prowling around after middle school-sized girls, forcing his very fucking presence on them and not taking no for answer?

 _Sounds a lot like someone I know._ A small voice in Negan's head nagged for a moment, though he ignored it completely.

He was allowed to skulk around after this little blonde dwarf and make her go places with him. Not only was he her "friend" and throwing her a paddle while she was up shit creek, but she was fucking _his._ Lucille may be completely fucking oblivious to such a fact, but that doesn't make is claim god damn invalid.

He'd snap that cock-sucking prick's scrawny little neck if he just so fucking had to.

"When I went to apply for the hours last year, he was there and…I-I guess he took a liking to me or something. We were sitting at a desk and he was helping me search for programs that would fit my schedule and he just started to…feel up my legs."

Well, guess he fucking has to now.

"H-He told me…" Lucille whispered, her long lashes beginning to brim with tears as she wrung her fingers tightly, eyes refusing to look up from her lap, "if I went out on a date with him he would help my get snag some of the easier volunteer jobs for my learning hours. I-I rejected him, obviously, and he was really mad."

Maybe he'd actually torture him first.

Disembowel the nasty little fuck right in front his _precious_ Lucille's eyes before making him eat his own innards. Then Negan'd toss his body into the dump nearby his cousin's house and let the rats there devour what little bit was left of his pathetic fucking being- all while he was still alive, of course.

He wouldn't get away with molesting his little Lucille _that_ easily.

No one would _ever_ get away with that.

"A-After that I just left as quickly as I could and tried to forget about the entire thing." The tiny blonde beside him whimpered, a small tear falling from her face and onto her exposed thigh, "I kept making up excuses to why I didn't fill out the forms or seek counseling to help me earn my learning hours and my mom as you saw would get so mad…But I'm just scared of walking in there _any_ day and seeing _him._ I go out of the back and side exits everyday just so that I don't have to risk passing by the office. But today I…I was so bewildered by our meeting that I just ran out of the front doors because they were the closest. A-And I guess he saw me because before I knew it he was beside me on the sidewalk."

As much as Negan wanted to prod and tease at the fact that their little meeting in his office had overwhelmed her to the extent that it had, the man knew that he needed to be a bit more gentle with the girl in this situation. By now she was sobbing in the seat beside him, her knees pulled up to her chest as she hid her face in them and allowed her tiny cries to fill his ears.

The sounds actually made his heart _ache_.

Negan really wasn't used to her showing _so_ much emotion. Especially not this one.

Sadness, fear, disgust, sorrow.

Violation.

He had seen this girl _almost_ cry before and had managed to thankfully heed the entire situation, but actually seeing her break down before him and sob was a little overwhelming.

And honestly, he wasn't all too sure as to why.

He'd witnessed many people in his life cry- especially women.

Countless girlfriends, teachers, cousins, and even his own wife and mother.

Negan had heard their wails and seen their tears just like he was Lucille's at this very moment, and yet he had never felt anything. Not a single twinge of guilt or sadness or sympathy- nothing.

It was like he was standing within an emotionless void whenever someone would cry, completely unable to comprehend what they could ever be feeling.

But seeing this tiny blonde alien girl curl up into a ball on the seat of his pick-up, hiding her face and crying out into her child-sized hands…he felt it all.

Every sniff, every whimper, every cry- it went straight to his heart.

And it did something so foreign and so wholly unknown to him that he honestly couldn't even identify what ever that it was.

He didn't even know if liked it or if he hated it.

All Negan knew was that only Lucille had ever made him feel it.

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

Lucille sat stiffly in the bed of the man whom she once swore that she loved, her back against the dark wood of the headboard and her heart unsteady.

Sherry was talking to her, but she wasn't hearing a single word that she said.

All she knew was that she was here, and it was going to happen.

There was nothing that she could do to stop it.

She could scream, she could cry, she could fight back.

But not matter what she did, nothing would stop her from experiencing the inevitable.

She was going to be fed to the beast.

"Dr. Carson told me that you need to sanitize your wound and change your bandage twice a day, by the way." Sherry's words, now breaking through after the blonde admitted her defeat, rung in her ears, "That means it's still very fresh, and that means no getting up and moving around so…do you like to read?"

Lucille raised her head slowly to look at the brunette woman with a bewildered expression.

As if Negan would let her get up and go and do whatever she pleased even if her leg wasn't fileted like a cut of meat.

"Sure."

A small smile spread across Sherry's lips.

"Good, any favorite authors or genres? There's a lot of books in the commissar-."

" _Atonement_ by Ian McEwan, _Ariel_ by Sylvia Plath and uh, fuck, what hell's it called…"

Both women froze at the interjection of a voice that created an environment all too frightening and ironic for it to even be considered possible.

She refused to even look up from her lap.

"…ah, _yes_. _The Lovely Bones_ by Alice Sebold."

The voice of the man who knew her favorite books.

"I doubt we'll have any of that shit, though. Most of the books in the commissary are from that gross ass basement around the south perimeter that Dwight stumbled across a few months ago. A lot of old English bullshit that no one gives a fuck about."

 _No_ , just the voice of a man that wore the face of the man that knew her favorite books.

"I see." Sherry replied tautly, covertly sliding her hand into Lucille's beneath the thick duvet splayed upon Negan's forsaken mattress, obviously trying to comfort the mortified girl, "I'll ask around. Maybe some of the Saviors or workers have those books or at least something by the same authors."

"Isn't that just _sweet_?" Negan sneered, amusement playing hazardously in his tone, "My little Lucille is already getting along so well here."

Sherry mumbled something in response that the girl didn't hear once again, as her ears were far too focused on the hefty sound of Negan's boots making their way to the front of the bed.

"And my, my… _Lu-cille!_ Now don't you just look damn fine!" The dark man exclaimed, his disgusting smile somehow audible, "Spec-fucking-tacular job, Sherry. You my dear did some fine work for your dear old husband on this very day."

Lucille slowly raised her head, her vision blurring in the slightest as she met the eyes of Negan and seeing that he was staring directly back at her as well.

The man was smiling before, but upon her directing her attention to him, Negan was nearly jumping giddy with excitement.

He looked like an even more fucked up version of the Cheshire Cat.

All she could do was deadpan back at him, her eyes fighting back the urge to spill over with tears and her fists wrestling with the desire to wrap themselves around his neck.

 _I hate you._

Biting deviously at his lip, Negan rounded his way along the edge of the bed, keeping his eyes locked fervently with his complete opposite's that was perched upon his nest.

He stopped when he was standing next to Sherry at the blonde's bedside, his grotesque hands finding their place on her tanned shoulders.

Lucille's palms bit viciously into the brunette's and the bed sheets, causing the woman to wince slightly at her grip.

Negan then leant down, putting his mouth next to Sherry's so that he could whisper something inaudible into her ear, causing the color to drain from his _wife's_ face.

And his eyes still never left hers.

He never stopped boring those vicious eyes into hers.

He couldn't.

Lucille pulled her hand from Sherry's immediately, watching as the woman's fists coiled in upon themselves at the loss of the girl's touch. The blonde then quickly grasped at the sheets so that she could clutch them closer around her body like a paper-thin suit of armor, unable to bear the feeling of an overwhelming and disturbing vulnerability.

She wanted no one touching her.

Not Sherry, and definitely not Negan.

Especially while she was laying in his bed- without any underwear, at that.

The man smiled wickedly at her actions, his tongue running along his teeth in a way that caused her to fight down chills.

All he did was leech off of her actions in the worst way possible.

She hated him.

"I'll have to reward you for this later, my lovely wife." Negan resonated smoothly, that menacing gaze of his still glued to the blonde, "But, as you can see, I have a bit of business to take care of with a certain ghost of my past."

 _I hate you._

"So you'll just have to settle for now, Sherry dear."

Before Lucille could witness what she knew Negan would surely commit, she allowed all of her senses to momentarily become numb.

She couldn't hear, she couldn't see, she couldn't smell, she couldn't taste, and she surely couldn't feel.

It's as if she was able to enter an endless void as soon as Negan "rewarded" Sherry for her _good deed._

She couldn't bear to be a spectator of this man's forceful marriage upon this woman whom- despite being a liar- gave her comfort in this place.

She couldn't bear to witness who he had become in its entirety just yet.

She would shatter if she took in too much at once.

She'd be nothing but pieces in this great, cold bed of his, cutting herself endlessly on the pieces in the saddest attempt to put herself back together.

And he would be there to marvel at the bloodstains upon his mattress like it was some sort of sardonic, scarlet painting that she created just for him.

All for him.

It was always all for him it seemed.

And she hated every bit of it.

 _I hate you.  
_

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak**

"I'll go with you."

The blonde jumped at his abrupt words, teary eyes blinking at him through both her waterworks and confusion.

The cab of his truck had been relatively silent for the past ten minutes or so, save for the smallest of sobs and sniffles that Lucille had been eliciting every few seconds in an attempt to recollect herself.

She had finishing crying around the same interval that the stillness had ensued, but the tension was still there, and it was pumping through his veins like an insatiable, five-alarm wildfire.

"H-Huh?"

Someone had dared to not only molest some poor girl in that godforsaken school, but they had dared to molest _Negan's_ poor girl.

Sexual violence was something he couldn't- _wouldn't-_ tolerate. It was something that he knew all too well and he refused to watch anyone, no matter _who_ experience it.

And especially not _his_ Lucille.

"To the office for those motherfucking, shit-dick service learning forms. I'll go with you. The little asshole already got a taste of me today, I doubt he'll want much more." Negan explained gruffly, his eyes staring straight ahead, "I won't let him do anything that you won't like. I'll break his fucking legs if I have to."

The man sat still for a moment, listening then for the girl's response. She had been pretty talkative ever since he had coaxed her from the grocery store, back into his pick-up, so her lack of reply was actually a bit surprising to him.

Or, well, lack of verbal reply.

When Negan had looked over to the girl in order to see what the holdup was, he immediately knew wholeheartedly why that little shit stain was taking so long.

Lucille, his tiny, bratty, bipolar alien, was staring back at him in absolute marvel- tears threatening to spill over once again.

Her eyes were chocolate saucers, her mouth was plump, pouty "O', and her eyebrows were _soaring-_ the whole shebang.

 _Oh, **fuck** y-es._

She was so going to be fucking his.

"No need stare at me like Jesus Fucking Christ himself, sweetheart." Negan snickered, although what he had just said to her was a total lie.

He wanted Little Lucille to worship him the way that he was beginning to her. He wanted her to be wholly absorbed in him, unable to go a second without hungrily evaluating every single one of his actions that he made. He wanted her to be obsessed with him.

He wanted her to call him hers.

To brand him as _Lucille's._

To be unwilling to share him.

To be unwilling to have anyone speak, look at or even _think_ of him.

"After all, I told you that I had your back, didn't I, _Lucille_?" Negan purred, tossing the can of peaches in his hands so that it landed in her lap, "The promise of the forbidden fruit."

 ** _To devour him whole._**

Her tears spilled over once again.

* * *

.

.


	9. Chapter 9

.

.

* * *

 **~Dog Teeth: Chapter#9~**

* * *

 **Series:** The Walking Dead  
 **Rating:** _Mature:_ Contains harsh language, violence/gore, sexual situations.  
 **Pairing:** Negan/Lucille (OC)  
 **Copyright:** Everything besides Lucille (The OC, not the bat) belongs to Robert Kirkman :)  
 **Author's Note : **Thanks for all of your patience regarding my updates. I finally proofread read this and got it posted after having it sit in my drafts for almost two days. I started college and a new job since my last update, so I've been a little busy and unable to write as much. However, I have had a lot more ideas and urges to write lately- so hopefully that means more frequent updates!  
 **Please: ** Review, favorite and follow! I love to know what you're all thinking and your ideas. Please shoot some constructive criticism my way as well, it helps me improve.  
 **Thank you!: ** I greatly appreciate all of the follows, favorites and reviews. Knowing that people enjoy my work is incredibly heartwarming. All of your love is what inspires me to keep on writing this story.  
 **ATTENTION: IN SEARCH OF BETA/PROOFREADER:** Whatever that you'd like to call it really! I am in search of a beta reader/proofreader that I can send my newest (and even old chapters!) to for them to review and correct. I do it myself each time before I post, but I always end up overlooking lots of mistakes that I make and I am usually too lazy to go back and fix them. So if anyone would be interested in such please send me a PM or let me know in your review or something please. You will receive credit posted on each chapter that you proofread and review. Also, please be able to provide me with some sort of document that shows your grammar skills and such- it doesn't have to be anything perfect! I know I sure am not, but I just want to be sure that you're someone who can catch and correct my mistakes if possible! Thanks!

* * *

 _"How does it feel_

 _To be all that you are_

 _All that you want to be_

 _Is that what you want to be_

 _And how does it feel_

 _To be what you've become_

 _What you said you would never be_

 _'Cause I don't feel anything anymore_

 _So, take me away"_

 _-How Does It Feel?, Citizen_

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak.**

"Y-You don't have to do this, really!"

The sweet, high-pitched sound of Lucille's begging filled his ears deliciously. She was desperate- and lord knows that her desperation only urged him further down the clearing hallway all the more quickly with each long stride.

"I was just worked up and being overemotional! T-There's no need for this anymore!"

The blonde was struggling hopelessly to keep up with him, her tiny feet screaming in protest as Negan refused to show them any type of mercy.

"H-He might not even be there today! He can't be here _every_ Tuesday." Lucille pleaded incessantly, anguish growing by the second, "R-Right?"

Little did his tiny blonde vixen know, her pleading was only spurring Negan even more rapidly towards the office. It just continued to demonstrate to him how absolutely fucking uncomfortable that asshole must make her, and that it was so bad that she felt unsafe even with a 6'2 leather-clad demon mercenary by her side. Just the thought of confronting the bastard terrified her to the point of begging.

And it made him goddamn disgusted- absolutely fucking _furious._

"P-Please, listen to me!"

 _You sound so desperate, baby girl._

"I don't want to do this anymore!"

 _I'll fix this._

"N-Negan, please, I'm scared!"

And finally, he halted.

It must've been abrupt too, because Lucille- despite always being four or five strides behind him- had skidded to sliding stop herself and was forced to take a few paces back to be by his side. She was glaring up at him with her fists clenched to her chest and her eyes were wide- begging, pleading- with this delicious perseverance in them. Even if her stubbornness could be annoying, it was downright fucking mouthwatering at the same time.

However, it wasn't the adorable look on the girl's face that had made Negan draw his revenge-filled rampage to pause. Once again, it was her words.

That's right, Lucille was actually starting to talk to him after their little bonding moment in his Ford a week ago. Surprisingly enough, him forcing two for four peaches down her throat and making her cry was the best remedy to her silence. It was god damn wild and completely mind-fucking- and he absolutely fucking loved it.

Having Lucille talk to him regularly- even if she was still rather curt at times- felt like an accomplishment that no one in a thousand lifetimes could ever possibly achieve except for him. From what Negan had observed, the tiny blonde alien was rather short-lipped with everyone around her, even her own god damn mother. Nonetheless, she appeared as fucking unbothered as humanly possible by such. Lucille seemed content being in her own little world most of the time- almost as if she found solace in being unnoticed and uncared about by the general population. To her, being a wallflower was a blessing- a goddamn gift from god himself. She preferred to be left alone. Unseen. Overlooked.

How did Negan know all of this bullshit?

Well, of fucking course, he watched her like a like hawk when he could.

Lucille was obviously wholly unaware of such a fact- not that it really mattered to him.

After Negan had discovered a few days ago that her gym class took place directly after his own first period and during his free second period, he leapt at the opportunity to _observe_ his little Lucille in action. The man had never realized it before, but he really hadn't been with Lucille around other people besides her mother and a few other minor characters. Otherwise, it was always just the two of them. And with him around, Lucille was always strung so tightly that she was practically suffocating, so seeing her relaxed and in her _natural habitat_ was quite the extravagant experience Negan had to admit.

It was nearly fucking perplexing.

Lucille was far more docile than he had originally thought. Every time that he had been with the girl she was either ramming into him, on the verge of crying, crying, scaling shelves barefoot or ignoring his entire existence with a beet-red face. So, seeing his Lucille standing absentmindedly- almost numbly- in the middle of a field whilst her classmates screamed at the top of their lungs over a game of flag football, was quite shocking. Negan had expected her to at least put in _some_ sort of effort to assist her team- but she literally moved maybe once the entire game and that was to sidestep a massive student four times her size diving for the ball. Even then, Lucille seemed entirely unfazed by being virtually squished to death. Even _he_ had almost darted across the field when he saw the scene that was about to unfold.

But Lucille?

Abso-fucking-lutely un-fucking-perturbed by the whole situation.

She simply slid a few inches to the left to avoid being tackled into oblivion and spared an unamused glance to the boy who screamed out in frustration after missing the pass.

He didn't even blink in Lucille's direction.

He had no idea that she even existed or that he nearly crippled her.

And Lucille looked _beyond_ fucking relieved that said guy threw no attention her way despite almost making her one with the ground below.

And she was that way the entire class. Unmoving, unbothered- seemingly unconscious. It was almost like her mind had checked out for the entire period and only returned to her tiny body when the bell rang. Her brown eyes looked entirely hollow- void- as they stared at the absolute fucking nothing in the distance.

And, for some reason, it really, _really_ fucking bothered him.

Negan was so used to seeing Lucille so vibrantly lit up with emotions; whether it be she was sobbing uncontrollably, screaming at him like a toddler or determined as fuck. So seeing her virtually become a doll so devoid of their own existence that the wind could push over if it blew hard enough, genuinely fucking concerned him.

Who was this Lucille that possessed her when she was surrounded by others? So meek, so passive, so unliving.

But even more so, who was this Lucille that she was when she was with him?

 ** _"It's almost as if they bring out an entirely different personality that you never even knew that you had."_**

 _Ah._

 ** _"And you just subconsciously mold yourself into how they make you feel."_**

 _So, that's how I make you feel, Lucille?_

 ** _"I feel as if we do it because we can't contain the way that they make us feel."_**

 _Alive._

 ** _"Negan, I'm scared."_**

Blinking a few times, the man forced himself back to reality. Lucille's words hung in his ears heavily, both those from the past and present echoing within them in a way that nearly burst his eardrums. Because, if Negan was being honest, he was still getting used to her speaking to him- especially now that he knew he was one of the very few, or maybe even the _only one_ , that she talked with in such a way. The first few encounters that the two of them had had, Lucille was almost always stiff as a board and entirely mute, so having her literally _calling out_ to him remained a revelation in the man's life.

Not to mention she cried out his _name._

And even said it with that fucking dick-hardening stutter of hers.

She always got that stutter when she was overwhelmed, and damn, did he just adore overwhelming her.

 _"N-Negan!"_

However,

 _"I'm scared!"_

Scared? Why the hell would she be scared when she has human Lucifer by her side? All he had to do was grab the scrawny prick by the neck, threaten him a little and things would be _peachy keen._

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, blondie. All you've gotta do is help me hide the body when we're finished, yeah?" Negan joked- partially- and watched as the girl's face began to contort with horror.

"N-No, no! I'm not worried about me, I'm…" Lucille whimpered, those tiny fists of hers beginning to clutch desperately at the hem of her sweater, "…worried about him."

Negan felt his eye twitch in the slightest.

 _The fuck does she give a quarter of a shit about what happens to Baby Dahmer?_

"Why the hell are you worried about that little cock Nazi?" The man retorted, feeling a bit of anger and jealousy churning in his stomach, "Whatever shit-storm comes his way he fucking deserves it."

Negan honestly thought that Little Lucille would be the first to jump on board with beating that piece of deranged dick to a pulp, so the fact that she was actually _concerned_ about this shitstain's wellbeing was a bit of an… irritation.

"No, no…I am more so worried about, ah…" The tiny girl began, her eyes diverting from his as the hallway began to feel as if it were closing in upon the two, "what will happen to _you_ if he does get hurt."

Alright, maybe he'd just have to fuck her right here on the spot.

Rip off that oversized nuisance of a sweater, bunch that delicious skirt up to her breasts and tear those naughty little stockings right off of her slender legs before holding his Lucille up against these godforsaken lockers and sliding into her tight body like madman.

Because Je- _sus,_ did hearing her say that awaken every inch of dormant flesh that his body beheld.

"Little Lucille is worried about me?" Negan goaded, unable to control the purr that was caressing each of his words. He began to slowly take a step closer to the blonde doll- _his_ blonde doll- and allowed his body to lower in the slightest so that he wasn't absolutely towering over her anymore, "I knew you were absolutely fucking taken with me."

Lucille's face lit up an abashed scarlet as she tilted her head up to look into the man's darkening gaze, those baby palms of hers nearly becoming a part of her sweater as she ferociously wrung her fists through their threads.

"D-Don't flatter yourself, old man." The blonde muttered, "If you get fired, then I don't get the manager position."

Damn, a double-whammy. That little shit really had to hit him with not only one, but _two_ insults that deflated his ego like a needle to a balloon.

It seemed as if this was becoming a trend between the two, and _fuck_ did it irritate him to no end.

However, he obviously couldn't let her know that.

Lucille may seem like an innocent little angel, but he could feel it deep within his gut that there was something demonic to those doll-baby eyes of hers.

This girl was most definitely the tiniest Satan that he's ever seen.

She just hid those little horns of hers well.

"No need to insult me just because you're unsure of your god damn feelings, sweetheart." Negan hummed, watching with delight as Lucille's eyes widened to glistening chocolate dinner plates that bore up at him with a light like no other.

 _There she is!_

The poor thing, he really did tease her a bit too much.

The blonde's face was glaring up at him with this harsh, intense fury- abso-fucking-lutely adorable on someone like her. Those eyes were still wide, those cheeks were still puffed to perfection with a red tint, and she was still so _overwhelmed by him._

 _So Alive._

"You're fucking crazy, _Lu-_ cille," The man snickered, bringing his hand down so that he could ruffle the wavy blonde locks at the crown of her head, "Just too easy to fuck with."

"I-I'm being serious!" His fuming fairy exclaimed, swatting his hand away indignantly whilst he eyed the rats nest that he had created upon her head, "None of this is necessary, N-Negan."

 _Stuttering out my name in such a tone…Lu-_ _ **cille**_ _…_

The man looked down at the tantrumming object of his obsession with a grin, wholly unable to take her seriously as she cried out from well over a foot below him.

 _You're just begging to be defiled by me at this point, sweetheart._

"Is it really fucking not, Lucille?" Negan queried, his eyebrows furrowing to the middle of his forehead in revulsion and disbelief.

"Yes!" The big blonde baby erupted, her Bambi eyes narrowing to delicious Disney-esque slits that could put any animated character to shame.

The man simply stared down into those quivering little slits that threatened to devour him whole with the ferocity of a thousand baby mice. He felt his insides churning angrily at her stubbornness, completely and utterly confused at why she was putting up this type of fight for someone so disgraceful.

 _You really want me to drop this, don't you?_

"So, you _really_ just want me to ignore this piece of dick whose been harassing the fuck out of you for well over a year, Lucille? Who has been making your life a living fucking hell? Who has instilled so much fucking fear in you that you plan your life around his schedule?" Negan pressed, studying his little blonde pixie's furious eyes with annoyance.

This time, however, Lucille seemed to hesitate before answering. Her face fell slightly at his question and her eyes began to return to their big, innocent doe state. She kept glancing warily to the side as she took her plush bottom lip between her teeth and her fingers continued to fiddle with the hem of her sweater.

 _Jesus, fuck. Did she really have to fucking do that?_

Negan was trying to be serious here, pay genuine attention to the girl and her request, but when she does shit like that how the fuck is he supposed to resist lifting that tiny body of hers up into his arms and shoving his tongue down her throat?

"Say it then, Lucille."

 _Fucking tease._

"Say it or I'll go into that god damn office at this very second and rip his spinal cord out through his asshole, sweetheart." Negan growled, his tone flirting with borderline threatening as he fought to maintain a calm front.

Lucille's eyes flashed with terror before she quickly regained herself and cried out, "I d-don't want you to!"

"Don't want me to fucking what, Lucille?" Negan teased, the corners of his mouth lifting up deftly into a sinister smirk.

Of course, for any normal person Lucille's first outburst would've been more than enough to satiate their demands- but Negan wasn't exactly normal.

A normal person wouldn't have even been in this situation with the tiny daughter of their affair to start, nor would they be promising to beat the living shit out of her harasser either.

They wouldn't have gotten involved with the kid whatsoever- no matter how fucking cute or enticing that they were. Because they have _boundaries_ and some shit called _morals_.

They weren't him- never could be, nor would they ever want to be.

And no one was his little Lucille- never could be.

And he was more than positive that no one would ever want to be in her position either.

"I-I don't want you to beat the living shit out of him!" The tiny blonde cried out, her baby fists clenching in frustration at her sides as she fumed up at him. Her cheeks were flushed beautifully and puffed out to perfection in a way that only Lucille herself could manage.

However, Negan is most certainly a man of his word.

He'd give this one to his Lucille-

Just this one, though.

For now.

"At your wish, Lu- _cille._ " Negan purred, his tongue running over his teeth dexterously as he began to walk past the blonde, his hand falling back into its previous position atop of her soft blonde curls before asking, "By the way, you may wanna get to fucking class, sweetheart. Bell rang about ten minutes ago."

Feeling the girl jolt beneath his touch, Negan didn't look down as she began to scurry away from him and to her class. He listened to her footsteps for a moment, sensing their distance that she was about to reach the end of hallway before turning back to face her direction of departure.

"Hey, Tiny Terror," Negan called after her, watching as she skidded to a halt at the edge of those lockers that he was very much so planning to fuck her against before turning her head back to him, "Need a ride home today? Tuesdays tend to be a little fucking rainy."

The man watched with hungry eyes as Lucille's own crinkled slightly as she offered him the tiniest of smiles.

"Sure."

* * *

 **Time Period: Present  
**  
"So, how long are you gonna sit there scowling at me, Lucille?"

Sherry had gone- abandoned her- and left her alone with the seething madman that had once again forced his way into her life. She was still tucked deftly into Negan's California King-sized coffin, the duvet fisted into her palms so tightly that she could feel the threads slicing at her skin. All she wanted to do was throw herself out of the dark windows that loomed dauntingly behind the man that stole her very freedom and never lay eyes on him or this world again.

She would most definitely rather lay bloody and unrecognizable on the pavement innumerable stories below than in his deathbed any day.

"There's no point in fucking pouting; that shit doesn't work in this world. You man up and you swallow the fucking pill, sweetheart." Negan goaded, slowly pacing back and forth at the edge of the bed, "Plus, with a face like that, you just look like a pissy three year old."

At this, the girl's head flew up to glare at him with a hardened disgust.

"There's no more pushing your vegetables around on the plate just so that it just fucking _looks_ like you ate them. Mommy doesn't let you get up from the table until every piece of that shitty, green broccoli has been planted itself inside of that child-sized stomach of yours."

Did this man actually dare to insinuate that she should just give in and fall into his leather-clad arms all because this was _his_ world?

"It's the way things are now." Negan declared, pausing for a moment as his eyes darkened and his pacing halted momentarily before adding, "It's how they have to be."

All because he thought that she didn't have the strength or willpower to overcome him _kidnapping_ her and holding her _hostage_ in his bedroom. If anything, he's the one that is having an issue swallowing this new-world pill that was being shoved down her throat. Seeing that he's still so infatuated with some girl from before that he drug her here unconscious and locked her in his bedroom because he's so out of touch.

 _That's cute._ She thought irately. _Fucking adorable._

Lucille remained silent, eyes boring deftly into him and well aware that her stare held a voice loud enough and ferocious enough on its own.

It was almost as if her gaze, searing into his skin like a Hershey's Kiss itself had been set upon a hungry open flame, could lick him- this disgraceful man- with its scathing hot tongue and burn his very being alive.

"I'd rather starve." Lucille finally seethed, her voice soft and barely above a whisper.

She knew it was foolish to respond to the man- giving him any type of acknowledgment, whether it be positive or negative, he was always tickled by her attention. And the last thing she wanted to do right now was to make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

However, despite her harsh words moments ago, that's exactly what she did.

Because if the cat ate the canary, then Negan must've ate the cat.

A smirk the size of his own ego had spread devilishly across Negan's features, obviously reveling in the fact that he could get words to fall from her lips once again.

He was far too easy to excite and disgustingly easy to please.

And she hated it almost as much as she hated him.

"Oh, _Lucille,_ " The man purred, his dark eyes glistening like ebony diamonds as he swung that bastardized baseball bat around like a child showing off their favorite toy, "did I fucking stutter earlier when I smashed that fucking plate of _de-_ licious chicken against the god damn wall? I mean, I must fucking have because you still seem to be a little bit confused as to what the actual fuck is going on."

All the girl could do was fantasize about beating him to death with that barbwire-wrapped beauty dancing between his fingers upon the very bed that she was forced to lay in. She wanted to watch as his blood coated every inch of his and her being. She wanted to bludgeon him with such a virulent ferocity until the insides of that fucked-up head of his tucked itself into bed for a nice long rest for the very the last time.

" _I_ am in charge here, _Lucille_. _I_ am the king of this place."

She wanted him forever gone and away where he could no longer haunt her.

"So, what I _say_ is _mine,_ is most fucking certainly mother fucking mine."

She hated him.

She really, truly did.

"And if I am not god damn mistaken, that also applied to you and I in the fucking past. Or did you just _black out_ during that part too, darling?"

From the moment his name fell upon her ears for the first time in the past to the last time upon this new earth, she felt nothing but resentment for him.

She hated him more than she could've ever fathomed.

"You're _mine,_ Lucy." The man concluded, his eyes darkening to a brand new threatening shade of gray.

And, maybe, she always had.

From the moment he forced his way into her mother's life and then into hers, snipping away at the flimsy thread that was their family- no chance or choice _ever_ given- she loathed his very being.

 _The only one that is confused is you,_ _ **Negan**_ _._

And maybe it was simply a hate so fierce, so vengeful and so aflame that it was forced to lay dormant lest it burn the life from her very being. Even if she was oblivious to it, she knew that she had always resented him. In some shape or form it existed- her hate- relentless and itching like feverish rash.

"You're so stuck in the past." Lucille whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she forced her gaze to intertwine with his own. She could feel her heart nearly thrumming at a mile a minute as she held his glare, but she knew that if she kept forfeiting- kept shrinking away from him- all he would do is continue his playing with her as if she was his very own marionette.

Lucille had to stand her ground against him.

For once in this new world, she had to speak _to_ him and not _at_ him.

She couldn't hide from him anymore.

She absolutely refused to become some lifeless doll that he kept chained up in his room for his own pleasure for the rest of eternity. She _couldn't_ let that happen _._ Not when there were people relying on her- at least, she thinks there still are.

She still had no idea what this psychopath did to them.

Lord only knows what that sick mind of his could've come up with to take them away from her.

"It's pathetic." Lucille spat.

And, finally, for a miniscule, barely-noticeable second- the man halted and seemed to falter.

That cocky grin fell from his face to cower momentarily at his big, black boots and his eyes hardened to a dark, murky void that hadn't seen the sun in years. Lucille was positive that his face must be mirroring her own at this point.

And, hopefully, that meant her words were getting through that thick, arrogant skull of his.

"If you're supposed to be a _king_ ," Lucille continued, her face contorting into one that could most certainly put Negan's mean mug to shame, "if you're supposedly above everyone else here and are this _almighty god_ of this falsetto kingdom- their leader, their _savior-."_

"This is really fucking cute, sweethe-."

"Why're you stooping so low as to raping me in your very castle?"

And finally, she had done it.

She had broken the dam.

And she knew it because she saw it.

She could _feel_ it.

Her eyes bore defiantly- angrily- into Negan's, watching as that sharp jaw of his locked into a position so tight that she could see countless of his muscles jumping maniacally within him.

Lucille knew that she had hit a sensitive cord within him by playing such a dirty note, but she knew how she had to perform to strike him just as he did her.

And by all means, raping her could very well be on this man's agenda.

Honestly, how could it _not_ be?

She didn't know who he was anymore- what he was capable of. And in her crippled, debilitated and famished state he could very well overwhelm her without any sort of worthwhile retaliation. Her leg had a huge gashing wound in it for god's sake- she couldn't protect herself even if she wanted to.

And to have her placed in his bedroom behind locked doors, freshly showered and lacking any necessary undergarments to provide her with the modesty that _any_ woman deserves, what _else_ could possibly be his motive?

To give her comfort and protection?

To shelter her?

To play fucking checkers?

Of course not.

Not while he still had something else to steal from her.

The one thing that he had yet to snatch from her grasp.

"You actually fucking think that I would do that, Lucy?" Negan breathed in disbelief, his tone low but his gaze just as harsh as usual, "To _you_ of all people?"

"I don't know what you would do to me anymore, _Negan._ " She retorted, watching as the man's expression only hardened at her usage of his name, "Bringing me here for such selfish, delusional reasons and doing such crazy things. One could only assume that you would be-"

"Preparing to _rape you?"_ The dark man thundered, his once-calm expression becoming overwhelmed by an abhorrent, untamable fury that caused her to flinch at his coarse tone, "After all that _I've_ fucking been through, after all that _you've_ been through- after what that _disgusting fucking monster_ did to you that _I_ witnessed with my _own_ fucking eyes? After all of _that_ awful bullshit, you think that I would fuck you against your own will?"

"You drug me here against my own will, did you not, Negan?" Lucille spat, her voice low and wavering as she refused to lose her ground in this territorial battle against a certain ghost- no, demon- of her past, "So, what's to stop you there?"

Ah, yes. _Those_ words. She knew exactly where they came from. The anger, the scorn in them…

"And then what's to stop you from slitting my neck right after?"

They had been latent and rotting within her very being since the very first day that she had heard him having sex with her mother. However, it was only when her previous wish to empty his skull onto his bedsheets took the form of words she admitted it to herself.

She blamed him for so much of the hurt in her life. She always had and always will.

Not because he was the easiest to blame, nor because he was the only one _left_ to blame, but because he truly was at fault.

Interjecting himself into her life nonstop, forcing her to include him in her everyday existence- no choice, no consent, no care for what _she_ wanted or desired.

It was always what Negan wanted. Never what Alice wanted, what his wife wanted, what _Lucille_ wanted. It was always him- _always Negan._

And whatever Negan wanted, he got.

And it always seemed as if she was the thing that he wanted the most in the most fucked up way possible.

Lucille felt her heart throb violently.

For her friends, for her mother, for herself…

For the man that glared at with her with such an intensity that she was positive that his stare itself would be able to pin her to the wall and steal her virginity if it just so pleased.

For him especially it throbbed the most painfully.

Negan was an intense man- he had always been. Of course, before he had been intense in a more endearing and embarrassing way, but now…

"I have no idea what you're capable of anymore." The girl whispered.

...He was just a nightmare.

And inevitably, he was furious- obviously scorned.

Negan's eyebrows were drawn deep down unto the middle of his forehead, eyes narrowed to the slightest of slits that she had ever seen upon his rugged face and his mouth drawn into a tight, furious line.

His muscles flexed treacherously within his jaw still, debating whether or not to pounce on its prey in a way that she was still unsure of.

 _Would he rape her?_

 _Would this man whom of which nearly beat the star pitcher of their baseball to death for groping her, rape her?_

 _Would this man that had experienced such a thing firsthand, force it upon her as well?_

 _Would Negan- whichever one it was inside of him- actually take what she had always saved for him?_

 _Could he?_

"I'd rather starve." Negan muttered abruptly, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached into his jacket's leather pocket and pulled out a shiny aluminum can. The man nonchalantly tossed it from his spot at the bottom of his bed and into her lap without another word before calmly making his way out of the room, the door closing and locking behind him with an audible _'click'._

 _He didn't._

 _He couldn't._

Perplexed, Lucille gazed at where Negan had made his exit for a few moments, her mind swarming with hundreds of thousands of feral thoughts that bombarded her like a hurricane beating on a storm door.

The girl blinked a few times, doing her best to snap herself out of said catatonic trance before her gaze fell unto the can that the dark psychopath had gently tossed to her before leaving her alone in his bedroom.

Across a slightly-faded colorful label, bold black letters read,

" _Georgia Fresh Peaches"._

* * *

Lucille laid placidly upon Negan's gloomy mattress, her eyes exhaustingly searching the ceiling for the thousandth time that evening. The sky outside of the foggy windows had begun to fade to a milky darkness as she reveled in her own boredom, wholly unsure of how much time had actually passed.

After her and Negan's verbal confrontation, he had left her alone in this eerie abode of his without any type of forewarning for when he would return. Not to mention he left her without any sort of entertainment, which in turn nearly caused the girl to want to claw out her own eyes. His room was monotonous and so utterly _him_ that it left her even more bored than if she were locked in an actual jail cell.

And don't get her wrong, Lucille knew that this man was a crazy old bastard, but the least that he could do was leave her with a magazine or something to tame her mind for the time being. Her eyes had roamed these dimming walls, the daunting doors and décor far more times by now than she would like to admit- and it was slowly driving her insane.

All that he _had_ left her with was…

The blonde's eyes slowly drifted over to the can of goddamned peaches that Negan had haphazardly tossed at her before taking his brooding leave hours ago, nearly causing her empty stomach to recoil at the sight.

The tarnished aluminum can that she had set upon his bedside table in disgust glowered back at her menacingly, its marred label mocking her silently in a way that only _his_ voice could.

 _Georgia Fresh._

Lucille isn't an idiot, nor is she an amnesiac- no matter how much Negan accused her of such.

She knew what those peaches were for- what they symbolized.

And she was well aware of the intentions that those Georgia Fresh Fucks beheld.

The girl's eyes narrowed vehemently as the memory crossed her mind, unsure of whether her heart was breaking in sadness, fear or anger at this point.

What in the ever-loving fuck could Negan really want with her?

He seemed perfectly content with rubbing his newfound royalty in her face plenty- whether it be with that nerve-wracking bat of his or by forcing his tongue down the throat of a woman whom of which obviously wasn't feeling the mood.

But most of all, he seemed perfectly content in this new world- this world without her.

If anything, he was thriving.

Negan seemed to be living fine and dandy with her long gone and out of his hair- he was even beyond successful in his new ways.

So, what does she matter to him now?

Had she even crossed his mind since they had been separated?

Did he even _care_ that they had been torn apart?

Lucille felt a frail frown setting upon her features as she lay staring at the can of forsaken fruit in front of her, realization dwindling softly in her mind.

 **Of course, he didn't.**

Because she had obviously never meant to him what he had to her.

She was just some toy for him to fuck around with for fun- something new and fresh for him to experience. He surely had never played around with an affair's daughter before, so it was most likely quite the intriguing idea for him. And thus, he had acted upon it in a way that molded her into the person that she was today.

 _His._

That's all she was and all that she would ever be:

A notch upon Negan's bedpost.

Another sexual achievement for him to boast about.

A heart for him to fuck with.

' _Click'._

Said heart suddenly felt itself lurch from inside of its chest and into her throat at the abrupt noise that was finally something else other than her own thoughts. It was coming from behind her, and honestly, she wasn't all too sure whether or not she was excited for the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

At least she knew that while she was alone with nothing but her uninterrupted thoughts and Negan's four walls that she was safe- nothing was there to harm her except whatever nightmares her mind conjured up. But with the entrance of what was most likely Negan…

' _Click'._

After the second sound, the blonde heard the door creak open and her heartbeat quicken.

She was most definitely unsafe- especially after their heated argument hours before.

In a fit of fear and overwhelming emotions, Lucille simply snapped her eyes shut and burrowed a little bit deeper beneath the heavy down comforter, praying softly in her mind that this would be a good enough defense mechanism for now.

She didn't have the energy to bicker with him anymore tonight, so, hopefully, that maniacal asshole had enough couth that he would allow his stressed and injured prisoner actually sleep.

Lucille held her breath as she heard the door then close again and his boots heavily making their way across the wood floors, her heart in perfect rhythm with each of his footsteps.

The blonde was able to blindly track his position as she forced her eyelids shut in the most natural-looking way that she could muster, her entire body filling with tremors as she heard him grow closer.

Negan had stopped at her bedside, his body towering over her menacingly as he presumably gazed down upon her bruised and battered form. She could sense an immensely placid aura that flowed from him in coarse waves- almost as if he was gazing down at a corpse rather than his own prisoner.

 _"His Lucille."_

He didn't speak a word, nor did he move a muscle, but this gaze of his that she could not even see with her own two eyes felt as if he had his hands wrapped around her throat.

It was suffocating and unnerving in a way that resembled being lost at night in an unknown neighborhood whilst domineering shadows that didn't belong to you mocked sounds that you couldn't identify. Her stomach felt tight and more like a second skin than an intestine. Her hands and her feet felt frigid- numb- and her head was beginning to resemble a dizziness that you felt when you underwent anesthesia at the dentist. Her eyelids were becoming projector screens for strange phenomena that bounced off of the back of her skull painfully and elicited colorful strikes of light that erupted with bright, thin lines mirrored fireworks. She couldn't see them, but she also could. And with each burst of their electricity she could feel them, even if she couldn't see them.

Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her, or maybe she was just dying. But the experience was like that of an out of body understanding. Just like all she could feel were his eyes even when she couldn't see them. She could feel them more than she had felt anything in the longest time as they forced her deep into in an unconsciousness.

She didn't know why she was so at ease despite their confrontation earlier or why she was allowing herself to fall into a state of vulnerable rest whilst he hovered over her.

All Lucille knew was that her body finally felt at peace for even the shortest of moments as she laid there beneath his glare.

The dragon watching his gold and jewels rest beneath its claws.

Unsafely safe.

Lost in his being.

* * *

 **Time Period: Three years prior to outbreak.**

 _I'm a good guy._

 _I'm a great guy._

 _I'm the_ best _guy._

It was a quarter until three o'clock and any other day Negan would've been almost home by now. It was beautiful outside after all. The clearest, bluest of skies that he had seen in weeks and a high of seventy degrees was taunting him as he stalked through the quietus of the graying school hallways after hours.

 _If anything, I'm_ too _good of a guy._

 _Too good of a god damn guy to be involved in all of this shit._

He turned the corner that led to the main entrance of the school, his eyes trailing along the walls of the hallways that were decorated with fliers and murals advertising the fall and winter clubs. A few students were loitering by the papers, checking out the details and requirements in loud, shrill voices that made him want to slam them against the lockers by their necks.

And most _definitely_ not in the way that he wanted to do to his little Lucille.

 _The best fucking guy that there ever was._

Nah, none of those teenaged assholes even gave him the time of day when he passed by them. Their eyes never even left the flyer for some damned brass band concert when he strolled by them, far too absorbed in their own lives.

But Lucille…

A smirk began to spread across Negan's face whilst his tongue ran over the chapped skin of his lips.

She devoured him whole with those innocent Bambi eyes that she had no idea screamed "fuck me" enough for him to get a hard-on whenever they made eye contact.

Oh, _yeah_.

He wanted to slam Lucille up against those lockers more than anyone else in this entire building- and maybe even the country, at least in this moment.

Yeah, it was fucked up.

But that's just who Negan was- a fucked up kind of guy.

He's screwing her mom after all, and that's pretty fucked up enough in a sense. So, is daydreaming about drilling Alice's daughter up against a wall of lockers _really_ that-

Yeah.

Yeah, it was.

Who the fuck is he trying to fool?

 _The best guy._

 _The best guy to have ever lived._

He was a fucking sick bastard.

Silently laughing to himself at the thought, Negan made his way through the entrance of the main office, glancing out momentarily at two kids feverishly sucking face along the front steps. The dark man let out a snort and shook his head.

Sometimes he forgot he wasn't the only horny one roaming these halls.

"Good afternoon, Coach Negan." A high-pitched voice greeted him immediately as he set foot within the office, shrill with excitement.

Negan recognized the verbal nuisance right away as the redheaded office secretary named Carlie, who was far too enthusiastic to be working in a high school's main office, began to wave from behind her pristine desk.

The man flashed Carlie a toothy smile, doing his best to keep the overwhelming annoyance at bay as she hopped up from her seat behind the wooden counter to make her way over to him.

"You don't come in here often, especially not after hours. There must be something really important going on!" The redhead beamed up at him exuberantly, an eagerness glittering in her eyes that nearly made him want to knock her giddy ass unconscious.

 _The nicest guy to have ever walked this earth._

However, Negan ultimately decided against right-hooking this half-brained redhead.

And not only because he's just _that_ nice of a guy, but because she could possibly be of use to him in his time of itching need.

"Yeah, actually, it is really important, Carlie." Negan smiled down at her, doing his best to seem genuine and not at all on the verge of shoving his foot up her ass, "I need you to help me find someone."

Upon the man's request, the woman's eyes lit up like Christmas lights on the cusp of overheating. And that's when Negan really knew that he was in far too deep with this little blonde shit named Lucille.

"Oh, why didn't you just say so!" Carlie exclaimed, scrambling back behind the counter and to one of the desks in the far corner, "Are they a student? Have they been skipping your gym class again? I've heard that you can be very tough Coach Negan! Maybe let up a bit on the drills and not be so strict? I really think that would help students in being more enthused and driven to attend your classes! I was a youth counselor at my local YMCA growing up, so I know _all_ about how children react to overbearing physical education. It's so much pressure you know? I can't even imagine! I was a star athlete at their age, so I don't understand the struggle entirely, however, I'm very good at helping them through such things. People say that I'm a _great_ listener after all- especially when it comes to the students. I've heard a lot about how domineering gym classes can lead to future anxiety and depression, particularly in young boys! It's all about their masculinity you know? Shattering that can be so damag- "

"I don't think that anyone can be more enthused or driven than you, Carlie." Negan interrupted in the kindest- most sarcastic- way that he could possibly muster. He was trying to be as polite as humanly fucking possible, but if he had to hear this bitch talk for one more second, he would have had a felony on his hands for sure.

 _Oh, way **too** fucking deep._

And at his remark, the redhead let out an ear-shattering screech of a laugh as she typed obnoxiously loud upon her keyboard.

"You're so, so right, Coach Negan! I've always been such a go-getter after all. Which reminds me, we should talk more! I've always heard so many rumors about you that I have wanted to confirm." Carlie continued, making the man's eye twitch in the slightest.

 _Lucille…give me strength._

"I actually just really needed some help finding this guy, Carlie. I'm a little pressed for fucking time, you see." Negan bit out, watching as the chatty redhead flinched slightly at his shift in tone.

 _Just the most absolute nicest fucking guy that you've ever met._

"I-I see! My apologies, Coach Negan. U-Um…"

Negan's jaw tightened in irritation.

This chick's stuttering wasn't cute whatsoever- if anything, it just annoyed him to no end.

The only person, he realized, that could make stuttering absolutely dick-hardening was Lucille.

And it partially pissed him off, partially made him grin.

"How can I help you find this person then? D-Do you perhaps know their name?" Carlie questioned, making Negan visibly cringe at her stammering.

"He's an intern in this office. A little shorter than me, dark hair, dresses a little like a god damn serial killer?" Negan described, watching as Carlie's eyebrows nearly shot up to her hairline.

"N-Noah?!" The redhead exclaimed, her eyes widening to dinner plates.

 _Noah._

Negan felt the muscles in his jaw fasten and twitch angrily.

 _So, that's the little rapey asshole's name?_

"Sure, Noah," Negan smiled, doing his best to not let his murderous intent show through his façade, "Is he here?"

Carlie tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment before checking her computer quickly.

"It is a Tuesday so he should still be here…"

"Spec-fucking-tacular!" Negan exclaimed, a charming grin finding its way across his features as Carlie's eyes rounded at his loud cursing, "And just where may I find this _Noah_?"

"A-Ah…he's most likely busy at the moment, you see. He usually helps counsel students at this time after school." Carlie murmured, the color beginning to drain from her face.

 _Get a handle on that rage, nice guy._

"He's expecting me, Carlie." Negan lied, his voice growing more and more wavering with rage as each second passed, "It's concerning a student of mine. Feisty one she is."

 _It's not a_ total _lie._

"O-Oh!" The redhead exclaimed, her eyes fearful and her voice disbelieving, "Why didn't you just say so? Right this way, right this way!"

Grinning with pride, Negan followed after Carlie as she led him through the corridor that lay behind the section of desks, feeling his excitement begin to overwhelm his being.

What he had been itching to do since he had seen this _Noah_ asshole trotting alongside his little Lucille was about to finally take place- and boy, would it be a chapter for the history books.

A national holiday.

The day that you mark on your calendars, folks.

It is today.

And it is going to be a productive damn day.

As Carlie stopped at the door nestled at the very end of the musty, dim hallway, Negan could not hold back the toothiest of his smiles. Especially when said redhead, after offering a series of soft knocks on the door, began to turn the knob to the soon-to-be coffin of _Noah._

"Noah, you have a visi-"

"Jesus, Carlie!" The all-too-familiar voice rung in Negan's ears, bringing back memories of last week that caused him to nearly fly across the room and take the little asshole's neck between his hands before wringing him mercilessly.

The whining little cunt was seated at a table next to a dreamy-eyed brunette girl who looked like she couldn't be any older than sixteen. Her eyes were hazy and her lips were swollen- not to mention the first three buttons to her top were undone, thus, leaving very little to the imagination of what could've been going on behind the recently-opened door.

 _Noah,_ on the other hand, had his own shirt undone at the top and his belt was also noticeably unfastened. That nest of perfectly-gelled hair of his, however, remained untouched.

"Don't you people ever wait for an 'okay' before entering someone's off-"

The kid stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fell upon Carlie's menacing counterpart, eyes nearly popping out of his skull as the two made time-stopping visual contact.

"Mama's boy!" Negan exclaimed vibrantly, his arms spreading out in a gesture as if he was greeting an old friend whilst his grin's edges stretched to his ears, "Long time, no fucking see."

 _Noah's_ jaw seemed to lock into place at Negan's words as the girl beside him began to scramble for her belongings, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone in the room with her. She seemed embarrassed- ashamed- wholly uncomfortable. Maybe, this scrawny cock-fuck had forced himself on her too.

The man's eyes narrowed as she pushed wordlessly past him and Carlie, hugging her backpack and jacket to her chest whilst keeping her head ducked like a puppy being scolded- tail between her legs and all. And, for some reason, Negan couldn't help but to imagine a mop of long, blonde curls upon that girl's head as she disappeared down the hall and it only made him even more irate by the second.

"I-I'll be at the front desk if either of you need anything!" Carlie interjected messily, her eyes darting about the room before she took her leave and fumbled with the door until it closed behind him with a _'bang!'_.

 _Finally._

 _Let's get this party started._

"I guess you like to keep your options open, eh?" Negan queried as reached behind him to lock the door, eyes never leaving the dark-haired pervert's, "Gotta have something to keep you entertained while chasing after Lucille's tail."

"I don't have to listen to this." _Noah_ retorted, beginning to stand up fussily before Negan's hand met his thin chest, sending him back down into the chair that he was sitting in.

"Actually, _Noah_ , you fucking do." Negan growled, his eyes narrowing to slits as he watched a look of horror flood the kid's face, "In fact, I don't think you mother fucking understand just as to _what_ you'll even be listening to."

 _I'm a good guy._

"Because, obviously, our little encounter where I pried your filthy fucking hands off of the little blonde girl wasn't fucking clear enough or you're just too fucking stupid to comprehend it." The man continued, his eyes darkening in a way that he knew would promise that this kid would listen, "She told me _everything,_ asshole. From you trying to bribe her into bed with you, to you sliding those _disgusting, grimy_ little paws of yours all up her skirt. So, I'm willing to bet big-fucking-bucks that you dangled the same deal in front of that girl who was in here a fucking minute ago."

 _I really am._

 _Noah_ stared up at Negan with eyes that could've rivaled the terror in Lucille's when she thought that he was going to shank her with a pocket knife in the cab of pick-up. His mouth was trembling and gaping as if he was trying desperately to speak- to defend himself- but all of his efforts simply ebbed away to waste as he succumbed to Negan's threatening aura and words.

 _I do things that most people wouldn't even think of because I am just_ _ **that**_ _great of a guy._

His body- a lot more gaudy and boney than Negan would've guessed he was hiding under that gay ass peacoat of his- was wringing itself tightly around the office chair that he was sitting in, almost as if fighting to stay conscious. He was an underling- a nerd, a fucking _loser._ He thought that he could overwhelm his Lucille- take advantage of her. However, what he did not know was that Lucille came with a guard dog that was more than willing to bite someone's throat from their neck without a second thought.

 _And I do them for you, especially, Lucille._

"You like to go after people weaker than you, I can see it. Anyone who took one good look at your scrawny ass could. From that girl earlier who couldn't have been more than a sophomore, to Lucille who looks like she's ten fucking years old. You look at them as if they're prey." Negan seethed as he continued to close in on the trembling _Noah_ whilst sweat and tears began to appear on the dark haired kid's surface, "And I don't know about the other girl, but Lucille…" The man slowly leant down so that he was hovering entirely over _Noah_ , face nearly level with his as he allowed his own hands to settle on either side of the chair, caging in his victim.

"You chose the wrong fucking five foot and under to fondle, my friend." Negan hissed, his right hand shooting over with remarkable speed so that he was able to catch the kid's throat right in his palm. He squeezed it softly enough to avoid jailtime, but threateningly enough to get his point across, "So, I'm going to tell you this fucking once and not fucking again, kid. So, put on those listening ears of yours and pay _close_ fucking attention to every-fucking-word-that-I-say."

The man stared down into the quivering, disgraceful blue pools that had to of violated his Lucille countless times already, feeling his hand tighten its grip upon _Noah's_ trachea slightly.

Those eyes…

Negan knew damn well what that kid saw when he looked at Lucille. He knew damn well what those eyes dreamed of seeing and doing.

Undressing her, groping her, _fucking_ her.

 _His…_

"I'll start off with the easy peasy stuff first, asshole." Negan breathed as he brought his face closer to perspiring one of his victim's, "If you _ever_ pull this type of fucking rapey, scratch my back and I'll scratch yours type of horseshit with _anyone_ in this fucking school or _anyone_ that is ever unlucky enough to cross fucking paths with you again I will not hesitate to report your ass to the schoolboard _and_ to the mother fucking police. That shit _will not_ go down on or near my watch fucking ever. Got it?"

At this, _Noah_ began nodding fervently, his eyebrows creasing in a way that revealed just how hard he was fighting back the urge to burst into tears whilst his eyes ballooned so wide that they threatened to invade his entire face.

"Good." Negan grinned, his mouth raising up along the right corner as he let his toothy, sinister smile take the spotlight, "Now, onto my little Lucille."

In the blink of an eye, Negan had wrenched the kid from his office chair by the throat with an incredulous urgency, before forcing _Noah_ onto his back upon the musky, stained carpet.

"Sucks, doesn't it, _Noah_?" The man seethed, his hand still threatening a breathless death by strangulation with each second that passed, "Being the one forced down onto the fucking ground, having someone _bigger_ and _stronger_ taking advantage of you? It's fucking terrifying, isn't it? Scares you shitless, huh? Some guy breathing in your face, touching you, making you wish that you were anywhere else but trapped in a room alone with that _sick fuck_?"

 _To make sure that you never have to experience what I did._

"So, do I even have to say it, kid? Do I really even need to fucking verbalize the next mother fucking part? Or are we mother fucking clear enough you disgusting, four-eyed, fucked up Ted Bundy wannabe piece of shit?" At the last part Negan's voice began to grow louder, not high enough for anyone to hear, but high enough so that it was able to scare his victim a little more shitless than before.

"Y-Y-Y-Yes! C-C-Crystal-" _Noah_ gasped out desperately, his hands grabbing fearfully at Negan's clenched fingers around his throat, "C-Crystal clear!"

Leaning down slowly so that his forehead rested against the kid's, Negan whispered tauntingly, "Glad we could come to a mutual understanding, _Noah_."

The man clenched his grasp tightly around the pervert's throat before viciously shoving his neck back against the floor and finally releasing him. Negan stared down at the throbbing red handprint that was already beginning to fade right above _Noah_ 's collar, and felt absolutely satisfied. It gave him reassurance that he had been able to force the breath from this kid's lungs for Lucille, but it would also fade before anyone could sneak a peek at Negan's handiwork.

Very, _very_ satisfactory if he did say so himself.

The man slowly began to rise from the scrawny boy's body below him, eyes never leaving his sobbing, heaving form whilst he now stood above him with one foot on either side of his victim. Negan let out a snort of amusement and contempt at the scene.

"If you have the fucking audacity to force yourself on high school girls, at least have the audacity to face the fucking consequences, asshole." Negan scoffed before stepping over _Noah's_ convulsing form, allowing his worn sneakers to "accidentally" bang the kid on the ribs as he made his way to the door.

"See you in hell, _Noah._ " The dark man laughed as he closed the office door behind him with an audible _'bang!'_ that rivaled Carlie's from earlier. He stalked down the stuffy, dim hallway, satisfied entirely with his actions.

Maybe, some would think that he was overreacting. That he roughed up a kid who was barely out of high school just a _bit_ too much over something so trivial for someone whom he really didn't know. That this "kid" was still learning the ways of life- the etiquette of a gentlemen. That he was a crazy, overprotective and hot-headed bastard who needed to be medicated in order to live a normal life. That he was just as bad as the kid whom he had just nearly choked into a coma for pining after the same girl- for forcing her into uncomfortable situations as well.

Maybe, so.

And maybe, he was.

But you see, there's still a difference, whether or not someone else does or doesn't see it.

"Thanks for all of your fucking help today, Carlie." Negan purred as he made his way past the fidgeting redhead's desk, his hand lingering on the wood as he headed towards the exit, "And sorry for being a dick earlier. I was just a little pressed for time, I've got someone waiting on me."

It's a difference that he chooses to acknowledge when most would disregard it as an excuse- a bad one, at that.

"O-Oh, Coach Negan! That's okay, I understand! I am so glad that I could help you out today, have a good afternoon! And have fun with your friend!" Carlie called out after the man who didn't spare her a glance during his entire exit. He knew that if he did she wouldn't have shut the fuck up- and he really did have to go.

And it's a difference that the other party did not even know of yet, if he was being honest.

Negan made his way quickly to the back entrance of the school, ignoring the familiar and the unfamiliar faces that he passed in his haste to reach his destination. His eyes saw nothing but straight ahead at the double glass doors that led to his daily journey's end- his possession.

But, nonetheless, it was there and it _made a difference._

Negan then burst fervently through the doors, allowing them to swing haphazardly on their hinges as he skipped down the steps in a manner that was hurried, but not in an obvious manner that would give away his desperation to reach his truck.

Because in the end, the only difference between him and Baby Bundy and any other fuck that ever laid eyes on the adorable blonde alien that he had claimed…

And finally, after rounding seemingly endless rows of monotonous soccer mom Honda's and Mercedes' and Bentley's that were far above anyone's in this school's paygrade, he saw her. His Lucille.

She was sitting cross-legged on the pavement, her back leaning up against his driver side front tire with her eyes roaming the desolate parking aimlessly in search of him. Her profile was stunning- catching him off-guard as he marveled in the side view of her tiny button nose that mimicked that of a newborn's and how her- _fuck-_ plump, puckered lips protruded softly from her face. Her dark eyelashes fluttered upon her cheeks when she blinked before finally hearing him approaching her from behind, causing her to turn and look over her shoulder up at him.

…She was _his_.

"Sorry to keep you fucking waiting, sweetheart." Negan grinned, walking past the girl so that he could place himself affront of the blonde, thus giving himself the perfect view to look down at her, "Had some fucking business to tend to."

And whether or not either of them knew it…

"It's fine." Lucille responded softly, lifting herself up from the pavement before brushing off her well-rounded backside absentmindedly, "Are the peaches still four for two this week? I wanted to get some more on the way home."

Negan grinned toothily down at her before nodding, "Hell yeah, they are."

 **He was hers too.**

* * *

 **Time Period: Present**

Lucille felt light.

Her body and her head, for once, were not throbbing incessantly. She wasn't uncomfortable, she wasn't itching or aching- she was… normal?

She wasn't entirely sure, considering she hadn't woken up in a normal state in quite a while.

What constituted as normal anymore in the tense of waking up, exactly?

The girl was only used to waking up with bandages tied around her head and her arm in a cast, the plaster and the gauze giving her innumerable rashes that she was unable to tend to. She was only used to waking up in strange places.

The Alexandria infirmary, Carl's room, Rick's house, the Sanctuary infirmary-

Suddenly, her eyes shot open in terror.

 _The Sanctuary._

Lucille sat up suddenly from the bed she had been laying in, the sudden realization of it being Negan's washing over her like a bucket of ice water. The blonde was staring at a wall that was bathing in the earliest of morning lights that for once provided her with absolutely no type of comfort.

It was morning.

And she had slept the entire night nestled within Negan's king-sized deathbed.

 _Negan._

Thrashing her head from side-to-side in a panic, unable to locate the wild man's location, Lucille suddenly turned over in a fit of bewilderment that almost made her forget that she still had a three day old stab wound residing within her left thigh.

Almost.

The girl let out at blood-curdling scream as she felt the searing red-hot pain shoot through her left leg and then up and throughout the rest of her entire body.

 _I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die._

"Jesus fuck! What the fuck are you doing?!" She heard Negan's voice thunder, however, was still unable to locate him, which only fueled her panic and pain-filled fit even further.

Lucille fell forward onto her forearms as she struggled to force her eyesight to regain focus, her entire mind becoming clouded with the inconceivable pain that coursed throughout every inch of her body. However, there was one comfort that she was able to find in the midst of feeling her consciousness ebbing away again.

She was finally able to make out the faint outline of Negan's form rising from a long black surface that she was able to identify as the couch. Lord knows that she had stared at it long enough last night when Negan had thrown his fit and left her alone with nothing but her mind to entertain herself for a few hours.

 _Asshole._

The man was now quickly dashing across the room towards her, her vision focusing and unfocusing repeatedly as she tried to hone in on his face.

 _He slept on the couch._

Lucille felt relief flood over her very being like a tidal wave whilst her eyes finally began to make out Negan's features.

He was climbing across the mattress towards her, concern and sleep etching his features as she felt herself suddenly and uncontrollably taken aback.

Negan didn't look like… _Negan._

Or at least not like the Negan that she had come to know over these past few days.

He looked like _Negan-Negan._ The Negan that had remembered from before- the one she loved.

Dressed in a white t-shirt and black boxer shorts, his dark hair strewn about messily and his salt-and-pepper beard the most untrimmed and untamed that she had seen it in she couldn't remember how long.

He was always so sleek and trim in these new days, dressed with slicked back hair and daunting leather that made anyone cower in fear from his very being.

But this Negan- the one before her in this very moment…

"What the fuck is wrong? Why the fuck are you screaming at five in the fucking morning, Lucille?"

His hands were roaming her body- for once, not in a way that was meant to be sexual. They were caring and concerned, searching desperately- albeit annoyedly- for the source of her fear and her pain.

He for once wasn't taunting her or yelling at her.

He was caring for her.

Just like _him._

Like _her_ Negan.

The _real_ Negan.

And suddenly, just like old times, she felt the tears beginning to press at her eyes from within her throbbing skull. Her vision of him was blurring and becoming smudged with tears once again whilst he kept hammering her with questions that she could never possibly answer.

Not while she was in this state. She couldn't even speak.

She was so in pain, so tired and so confused.

All Lucille thought that she had to do to survive in this new world was fight tooth and nail and dodge bites from a bunch of walking corpses. Never could she ever have imagined experiencing this type of emotional turmoil- even before Negan.

The people she gained and lost, the ones that she found again…

Him- _Negan_ \- finding her again in the most absolute worst way possible.

It all made her head spin wildly, causing the bewildered tears that threatened their very entrance earlier to finally spill over and trickle down her cheeks in rivulets.

All Lucille could do was stare at this sleepy-eyed madman as he took her face into her hands, her entire fight or flight response screaming that either option was the only option that she had. That voice inside of her head was pissed- absolutely livid, yet so terrified that she could hear the tremors in it. It was telling her to do anything but let him touch her- let him confuse her.

 _Don't let him fool you._

Lucille felt her entire body beginning to tremble whilst her teary eyes forced themselves to hone in on the man in front of her, his voice and his eyes causing her to nearly fall unconscious at their familiarity.

 _He's a monster. Your jailer. You're nothing but a pet and a trophy to him._

Negan was so close to her that she could smell him. A musk that felt so well known to her, yet somehow so different, that it could have easily given her whiplash.

 _He_ gave her whiplash.

 _All he wants to do is play with you; you're nothing but his plaything. A toy. A source of entertainment._

One moment he was declaring that she was his and that he could never let her go, meanwhile the next his tongue was sliding down the throat of his reluctant _wife_ before her very eyes.

 _You were never special to him and never will be._

Lucille was so conflicted and so beyond fed up that her mind felt as if she couldn't take anymore. Between not eating properly for the last four and a half days, being stabbed in the thigh, reuniting with Satan himself and being kidnapped by said Lucifer she was absolutely drained.

 _Don't let him fool you again._

The girl had felt so refreshed and energized upon waking up mere minutes ago, however, now she felt as if she could sleep comfortably for another year or two. If only she could close her eyes and never wake up again, unable to witness _Negan_ and all of his _doings,_ then maybe she could be truly happy.

 _All he has ever done is hurt you._

Lucille looked into Negan's dark, troubled eyes for the last time before sliding her hands up to grab ahold of his wrists, allowing herself to become lost in his engulfing, void-like depths once more. Time felt like it froze as they indulged silently in one another, almost as if they were screaming hundreds of thousands of words back and forth merely with their eyes. She had no idea what he was thinking, and she was positive that he hadn't the slightest inkling of her thoughts either.

 _And that's all he ever will do to you: hurt you._

Like she had said before, Lucille no longer knew this man before her. She couldn't possibly fathom or comprehend any of the thoughts that raced through his head in these new days. She could barely understand her own.

 _Violate you._

The blonde deftly tightened her grip upon Negan's wrists, her eyes narrowing in the slightest as she cradled her head into his hands, nuzzling her face against his calloused palms whilst her eyes mooned up at him.

 _Destroy you._

"I am going to make you regret all of this, Negan. I promise."

 _Destroy_ _ **him**_ _._

 _I'll make you wish that you had killed me the second that you laid eyes on me._

* * *

.

.


End file.
